GEORGE  :  WELLS  *  ARMES 
MEMORIAL  LiBRARY  *  *  + 
STiLES  HALL BERKELEY 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 


University- of  California. 

gift  otgr 

Y.M.0.A,OFU,C. 

^Accession      10 1/7/7  Class 


*: 


bt.*** 


THE 


SUFFERING  SAVIOUR; 


OR, 


MEDITATIONS 


ON 


THE  LAST  DAYS  OE  CHEIST 


BY 

FRED.  W.  KRUMMACHER,  D.  D., 

TO  HIS  MAJESTY  THE  KIXG  OF  PRUSSIA  ;  AUTHOR  OF  "ELISHA  THE  TISHBITE, 
"LAST  DATS  OF  ELISHA,"  "THE  MARTYR  LAMB,"  ETC. 

UNDER  THE  EXPRESS   SANCTION  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 

BY  SAMUEL  JACKSON. 


BOSTON: 
OOULD      AND      LINCOLN, 

59     WASHINGTON     STREET. 

NEW  YORK:   SHELDON,  BLAKEMAN  &  CO. 
CINCINNATI :  GEO.  S.  BLANCHARD. 

1859. 


PBINTED  BY 

GEORGE  C.  EAND  &  AVERY. 


FKOM 

THE    AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 


In  the  following  meditations  I  trust  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  displaying  to  my  readers  at  least  a  portion 
of  those  riches  which  are  contained  in  the  inexhausti- 
ble treasury  of  our  Saviour's  sufferings.  Unmutilated 
scriptural  truth,  such  as  I  believe  I  promulgate,  still 
finds  a  favorable  reception  in  the  world,  which  I  have 
been  permitted  to  experience  in  the  most  grat. '  ;ng 
manner.  I  mention  it,  solely  to  the  praise  of  God, 
and  for  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  are  like-minded, 
that  my  writings,  or  at  least  a  part  of  them,  are,  as  I 
hear,  already  translated  into  English,  French,  Dutch, 
Swedish,  and  as  I  am  assured,  though  I  can  not  vouch 
for  the  fact,  into  the  Danish  language  also.  My  "  Eli- 
jah the  Tishbite"  has  even  appeared  in  a  Chinese  at- 
tire. But  that  which  is  of  greater  importance,  is  the 
intelligence  I  am  constantly  receiving  of  the  manifold 
blessing  which  the  Lord,  of  his  great  and  unmerited 
favor,  has  bestowed  upon  my  labors.  That  in  his  con- 
descension and  loving-kindness,  He  would  also  deign  to 
bless  this  my  most  recent  work  is  so  much  the  more 
my  heartfelt  wish  and  ardent  prayer,  since  it  lias  for 
its  subject  the  chief  supporting  pillar  of  the  whole 
church — the  cross  of  our  Lord   Jesus   Christ. 


101777 


IV  TRANSLATOR'S    NOTE. 

The  division  of  the  work  into  the  "Outer  Court," 
the  "Holy  Place,"  and  the  "Most  Holy  Place,"  is 
intended  merely  to  point  out  the  different  stages  of 
the  Redeemer's  sufferings,  from  their  commencement 
to  their  close,  but  by  no  means  to  attach  a  less  or 
greater  importance  to  them.  Had  the  latter  been  the 
case,  I  would  naturally  have  assigned  the  institution 
of  the  Lord's  Supper  its  appropriate  place  in  the  "Most 
Holy  Place,"  instead  of  the  "Outer  Court."  But  in 
the  plan  of  this  volume,  it  falls  among  the  class  of 
events,  which  immediately  precede  the  propitiatory 
work  of  the   Mediator. 

Potsdam. 


TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE. 

The  important  work,  of  which  the  present  is  a 
Translation,  appeared  originally  as  a  series  of  dis- 
courses. But,  in  order  to  render  it  the  more  gene- 
rally acceptable  and  useful,  the  Translator,  with  the 
Author's  kind  permission,  has  molded  it  into  its  pres- 
ent form,  and  omitted  whatever  appeared  to  be  of 
an  extraneous  nature.  He  has  felt  the  more  at  lib- 
erty to  pursue  this  course,  since  it  has  been  attended 
with  success  in  some  of  the  estimable  Author's  ear- 
ier  works. 

Tulse  Hill,  29th  September,  1855. 


CONTENTS 


THE   OUTER   COURT. 

L 

PAGE 

The  Announcement 11 

n. 

The  Anointing 18 

m. 

The  Entry  into  Jerusalem 26 

IV. 

Christ  "Washing  his  Disciples'  Feet 33 

V. 
The  Passover 46 

VI. 

The  Institution  op  the  Lord's  Supper 53 


% 


I 
Vi  CONTENTS. 


vn. 

PAGE 

"Lord,  Is  it  I?" 59 


vin. 

Judas  Iscariot    .    .    .   '. 63 

IX. 
The  "Woe  Denounced i 73 

x. 

The  Walk  to  Gethsemane 83 

XI. 
The  Converse  by  the  Way 92 


THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

xn. 

Gethsemane — Conflict  and  Victory 102 

xm. 

Gethsemane — Import  and  Eesult 115 

XIV. 
The  Sudden  Assault 125 

XV. 
The  Traitor's  Kiss 134 


CONTENTS.  Vll 


XVI. 


PAGE 

The  Sword  and  the  Cup 141 


XVII. 
Offering  and  Sacrifice 149 

xvin. 

Christ  before  Annas 157 

XIX. 

The  Judicial  Procedure 163 

XX. 

The  Fall  of  Peter 169 

XXL 
The  Great  Confession 178 

xxrr. 

Peter's  Tears 186 

XXHI. 

"  Prophesy  to  us,  Thou  Christ" 195 

XXEV. 
Christ  before  the  Sanhedrim: 203 

XXV. 
The  End  of  the  Traitor 210 


yiii  CONTENTS. 

XXVI. 

PAOB 

Christ  before  Pilate 224: 

xxvn. 

The  Accusations 23>? 

xxvin. 

Christ  a  King 245 

XXIX. 
"What  is  Truth? 254: 

XXX. 
The  Lamb  op  God 262 

XXXI. 
Christ  before  Herod 2?0 

xxxn. 

Pilate  our  Advocate 2T8 

XXXIII. 
Jesus  or  Barabbas 286 

XXXIV. 
Barabbas 294 

XXXV. 
The  Scourging 303 


CONTENTS.  IX 


XXXVI. 

PAGE 

Ecce  Homo! 309 


XXXVII. 

The  Close  op  the  Proceedings 319 

XXXVHI. 
The  "Way  to  the  Cross 330 

XXXIX. 
Simon  of  Cyrene 336 

XL. 
The  Daughters  of  Jerusalem 344 


THE    MOST    HOLY    PLACE. 

XLI. 
The  Crucifixion 354 

XLII. 

The  Dividing  of  the  Raiment 363 

XLHI. 
The  Inscription 313 

XLIV. 
"  Father,  Forgive  Them" 380 


X  CONTENTS. 


XLV. 


PAGE 

The  Malefactor 388 


XLVI. 
The  Legacy  of  Love 399 

XL  VII. 
44  Eli,  Eli,  Lama  Sabachthani!" 410 

XLVIII. 
"I  Thirst!" 421 


XLIX. 
"It  is  Finished  1" 428 

L. 

"Father,  into  thy  Hands  I  Commit  my  Spirit" 436 

LI. 

The  Signs  that  Followed 444 

LII. 
The  Wound  of  the  Lance 456 

Lin. 

The  Interment 461 


UNIVERSITY 


THE 


SUFFERING    SAVIOUR. 


THE    OUTER    COURT 


I. 

THE    ANNOUNCEMENT. 

The  history  of  our  Saviour's  passion  is  about  to  display  before 
us  its  bleeding  mysteries  and  its  awful  vicarious  scenes.  The 
"Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world," 
submissive  to  the  council  of  peace,  which  was  held  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world,  approaches  the  altar  of  burnt-offering. 
Bonds,  the  scourge,  the  cross,  and  the  crown  of  thorns,  present 
themselves  to  our  view  in  the  distance ;  and  the  "  seven  words," 
uttered  by  Jesus  on  the  cross,  sound  in  our  ears,  like  the  funeral 
knell  of  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  and  like  intimations  of  liberty 
and  joy  to  the  sinful  race  of  man. 

It  was  said  to  Moses  from  the  burning  bush,  "Put  off  thy 
shoes  from  off  thy  feet,  for  the  place  whereon  thou  standest  is 
holy  ground." — Exod.  ii.  5.  With  still  stronger  emphasis  are  these 
words  uttered  to  us  from  the  sacred  spot,  where  that  much-imply- 
ing type  found  its  actual  fulfillment.  0  what  wonders  are  we 
about  to  approach  in  our  meditations !  From  the  most  appalling 
scene  the  world  ever  witnessed,  a  paradise  of  peace  springs  forth. 
From  the  most  ignominious  sufferings,  we  see  the  most  glorious 


12  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

triumph  emerge;  and  from  the  most  dreadful  of  deaths,  a  divine 
and  never-fading  life  arise ! 

May  devotion,  humbleness  of  mind,  and  child-like  faith  accom- 
pany us  in  our  meditations,  and  penitential  tears  become  our  eye- 
salve  !  But  do  Thou,  who  hast  the  key  of  David,  unlock  for  us 
the  gates  to  the  sanctuary  of  thy  sacred  passion,  and  in  the  awful 
scenes  of  thy  sufferings,  enable  us  to  discover  the  mystery  of  our 
eternal  redemption ! 

Almost  immediately  after  our  blessed  Lord  had  performed 
perhaps  the  most  stupendous  of  his  miracles,  in  raising  Lazarus 
from  the  grave,  after  he  had  been  dead  four  days,  we  are  in- 
formed by  the  Evangelist,  that  "the  chief  priests  and  the 
Pharisees  took  counsel  together  to  put  Him  to  death."  What  an 
humbling  view  does  this  circumstance  give  us  of  the  depravity 
of  human  nature  as  exemplified  in  these  men,  who,  while 
obliged  to  confess  the  fact  of  the  miracles  which  Jesus  wrought, 
not  only  refused  to  accept  him  as  the  Messiah,  but  even  con- 
spired together  to  rid  themselves  of  him  by  condemning  him  to 
death !  Thus  confirming  the  words  of  Abraham  to  the  rich  man 
in  torment,  "Neither  will  they  be  persuaded  though  one  rose 
from  the  dead." 

"  Jesus,  therefore,"  we  are  told,  "  walked  no  more  openly  among 
the  Jews,  but  went  thence  unto  a  country  near  to  the  wilderness, 
into  a  city  called  Ephraim,  and  there  continued  with  his  disciples. 
But  when  the  time  was  come,  that  he  should  be  received  up,  he 
steadfastly  set  his  face  to  go  to  Jerusalem." 

With  this  object  in  view,  the  Lord  takes  his  twelve  disciples 
apart  He  has  matters  of  importance  to  disclose  to  them. 
Destined,  as  they  were,  to  lay  the  foundations  of  his  Church,  it 
was  requisite  that  they  should  not  be  deficient  in  a  comprehen- 
sive acquaintance  with  the  counsel  of  God,  for  the  redemption 
of  the  world.  They  soon  perceive  his  intention,  and  hang  upon 
his  lips  with  increasing  eagerness.  They  probably  reckon  on 
some  cheering  intelligence,  and  expect  to  hear,  that  the  tri- 
umphant development  of  his  kingdom  is  at  hand.  But  what 
short  sightedness  and  simplicity  do  they  display !  0  the-mighty 
chasm  which  intervenes  between  their  thoughts  and  God's 
thoughts!    As  though  the  restoration  of  fallen  man  were  a  thing 


THE   ANNOUNCEMENT.  13 

of  such  easy  accomplishment!  As  if  sin  had  caused  only  a 
transient  disturbance  in  the  relations  between  God  and  man,  and 
occasioned  a  breach  which  could  be  healed,  either  by  a  voluntary 
declaration  of  mercy  from  on  high,  or  by  a  confession  of  sin  on 
the  part  of  the  fallen ! 

The  Lord  opens  his  mouth,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  the 
disciples,  announces  to  them  in  plain  terms  his  approaching 
sufferings,  and  at  the  same  time  his  subsequent  victory.  "Be- 
hold," says  he,  "we  go  up  to  Jerusalem;  and  all  things  that 
are  written  by  the  prophets  concerning  the  Son  of  Man  shall  be 
accomplished." 

Observe,  first  of  all,  how  these  words  convey  our  Lord's  fixed 
resolution.  His  heart,  under  the  impulse  of  love,  is  firmly  and 
immutably  bent  on  taking  the  way  to  the  cross.  You  well  re- 
member with  what  impressive  earnestness  he  rejected  the  advice 
of  Simon  Peter  to  spare  himself,  and  not  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem. 
"Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,"  was  his  reply;  "thou  art  an 
offence  unto  me;  for  thou  savorest  not  the  things  that  be  of 
God,  but  those  that  be  of  men."  So  evident  was  it  to  him,  that 
the  sufferings  he  was  going  to  meet,  were  not  merely  an  efflux 
of  human  depravity,  but  also  the  express  will  and  counsel  of  his 
heavenly  Father,  that  in  the  contrary  advice  of  his  disciple,  he 
could  recognize  nothing  but  a  temptation  from  the  bottomless 
pit,  and  Simon  as  the  unconscious  instrument  of  it.  No  affec- 
tionate entreaty  any  longer  restrains  him  in  his  course;  no 
menace  dictated  by  hatred  deters  him  from  it.  The  blood- 
thirsty council  has  already  assembled  at  Jerusalem,  and  is 
concocting  its  plan  of  treachery  and  murder.  But  the  watch- 
word of  Jesus  continues  to  be — "Behold  we  go  up!"  and 
though  another  Red  Sea  were  foaming  at  his  feet,  and  though  a 
hundred  deaths  awaited  him,  yet  the  only  sentiment  of  his  heart 
is — "We  go  up."  For  it  is  his  Father's  will,  and  the  path  to 
the  great  and  ardently  longed-for  aim  of  the  world's  redemption. 
0  what  resignation,  what  obedience,  what  love  to  sinners  is  here 
exemplified  by  our  adorable  Immanuel. 

"Behold,"  says  our  Lord,  "we  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  and  all 
things  that  are  written  by  the  prophets  concerning  the  Son  of 
Man  shall  be  accomplished."     Here  we  are  informed  what  was 


14  THE    OUTER    COURT. 

his  staff  and  his  stay  on  the  road  to  his  sufferings.  He  found  it 
in  the  "sure  word  of  prophecy,"  in  which  he  read  what  was 
recorded  of  himself,  and  the  counsel  of  God  respecting  him. 
And  if  any  one  still  requires  a  definite  authority  for  the  divine 
inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  it  is  here  presented  to  him. 
Christ,  the  King  of  Truth,  recognizes  in  the  Scriptures  nothing 
less  than  the  infallible  record  of  the  revelation  of  his  heavenly 
Father;  he  bears  it,  day  and  night,  on  his  heart;  he  decides 
according  to  its  statutes,  as  the  Canon  Law,  which  puts  an  end 
i  to  all  strife  respecting  the  vital  questions  of  human  life,  and 
directs  his  steps  whithersoever  it  points  the  way.  It  is  to  him 
the  infallible  guiding-star  of  his  life.  Whether  the  voice  of  his 
heavenly  Father  is  heard  direct  from  heaven,  or  sounds  to  him 
from  this  venerable  record :  it  is  the  same  to  him.  The  one  is 
as  important  as  the  other;  and  he  reverentially  bows  to  every 
title  and  iota  of  it.  It  is  thus  his  ways  are  established;  and 
every  moment's  experience  seals  it  to  him,  that  he  is  actually 
obeying  a  divine  command.  Every  thing  that  the  word  enjoins 
becomes  reality,  and  the  most  delicate  trait  assumes  life  and 
substance. 

"  Certainly,"  some  one  may  say,  "  it  ought  to  strengthen  our 
determination  to  proceed  upon  the  path  prescribed  for  us  by  the 
word  of  God,  when,  like  Christ,  we  are  aware  that  our  way 
through  life  is  not  only  divinely  ordered  and  superintended,  gen- 
erally speaking,  but  also  when  we  can  survey  it,  from  step  to 
step,  in  the  light  of  an  infallible  and  divine  revelation,  even  to  its 
glorious  termination."  But  is  not  this  really  the  case,  if  thou 
hast  believingly  and  sincerely  given  thyself  up  to  God  ?  For  can 
there  be  any  situation  in  which  the  divine  word,  with  its  counsel, 
leaves  thee  at  a  loss?  Is  it  not  also  written  respecting  thee, 
"The  Lord  will  not  suffer  thee  to  want  any  good  thing?" 
"  Through  much  tribulation  thou  must  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  But  "  when  thou  passest  through  the  waters,  they  shall 
not  overflow  thee;  and  through  the  fire,  the  flame  shall  not 
kindle  upon  thee,  for  the  Lord  is  with  thee."  It  may  in- 
deed be  the  case  that  men  will  revile  and  persecute  thee; 
but  if  thou  faithfully  endure,  thy  reward  shall  be  great.  The 
light  shall  always  rise    upon    thee    after    the    darkness;    and 


THE   AXXOUNCEMENT.  15 

after  sorrow,  joy  shall  again  visit  thy  threshold.  Nor  shall 
any  one  be  able  to  snatch  thee  out  of  the  Lord's  hands;  but 
after  having  fought  the  good  fight,  thou  shalt  finally  receive  the 
crown  of  righteousness,  shalt  not  see  death,  but  pass  from  death 
unto  life,  and  triumph  eternally.  Does  not  all  this,  and  mani- 
fold more  stand  written  of  thee ;  and  is  not  therefore  thy  path 
pointed  out  and  prophetically  indicated?  Mayest  thou  not  also 
say,  in  thy  measure,  with  the  Lord  Jesus,  "  Behold,  we  go  up  to 
Jerusalem,  and  all  shall  be  accomplished,  that  stands  written  by 
the  finger  of  God,  respecting  me,  a  poor  sinner,  since  I  am  no 
longer  my  own,  but  belong  to  Christ?"  0  certainly  thou  mayest 
say  this !  How  ought  we  not,  therefore,  with  such  a  conscious- 
ness, to  put  on  a  cheerful  courage,  during  our  pilgrimage,  and 
feel  as  if  heavenly  triumphal  music  preceded  us  on  our  path 
through  life ! 

My  dear  readers,  let  us  only  place  a  firm  reliance  on  the  word 
of  truth,  and,  in  its  light,  ascend  the  precipitous  road ;  according 
to  its  instructions,  proceed  forward  with  firm  and  steady  steps, 
unmindful  of  the  tumult  of  the  world,  and  not  deviating  a  Tiand- 
breadth  from  the  way  prescribed.  Let  us  meet  him  who  would 
direct  us  otherwise,  with  a  voice  of  thunder,  and  exclaim,  "  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan,  for  thou  savorest  not  the  things  that  be 
of  God,  but  those  that  be  of  man  I "  The  Almighty  will  then  be 
favorable  to  us ;  we  shall  then  carry  the  peace  of  God,  that 
choicest  pearl!  in  our  bosoms;  and  literal  accomplishments  of 
the  divine  promises,  which  we  have  taken  for  our  compass,  and 
for  a  lamp  unto  our  feet,  will  daily  fall  upon  our  path,  like  fights 
from  heaven. 

The  Lord's  face  is  toward  Jerusalem;  and  we  have  already 
seen  for  what  purpose.  His  intention  is,  to  suffer  and  to  die. 
0  there  must  be  something  of  immense  importance  connected 
with  his  passion!  It  appears  as  the  crisis  of  the  work  for 
the  accomplishment  of  which  he  left  his  Father's  bosom,  and 
came  down  to  earth!  Were  this  not  the  case,  to  judge  of  it 
in  the  most  lenient  manner,  it  would  have  been  tempting  God, 
thus  to  rush  to  meet  death,  after  having  completed  his  prophetic 
office  in  Jerusalem ;  and  the  over-ruling  Majesty  on  high  would 
have  exposed  his  justice  to  well-founded  reproach,  in  giving  up 


16  THE   OUTER   COTJET. 

the  Holy  One,  who  had  fulfilled  Ms  commands,  to  the  horrible  fate 
of  a  malefactor  and  reprobate,  in  the  most  glaring  opposition  to 
the  axioms  of  his  own  government.  But  the  Eternal  Father  had 
included  in  his  counsels  the  cross,  the  scourge,  and  the  crown  of 
thorns,  long  before  the  sons  of  Belial  thought  of  having  recourse 
to  these  instruments  of  torture ;  and  all  his  prophets,  however  re- 
luctantly, were  compelled  in  spirit  to  interweave  these  horrid 
emblems  along  with  the  majestic  image  of  the  Messiah,  which 
they  portrayed.  Thus  the  Lord  could  say  with  profound  truth, 
"  All  things  that  are  written  by  the  prophets  concerning  the  Son 
of  Man  shall  be  accomplished ;  for  he  shall  be  delivered  unto  the 
Gentiles,  and  shall  be  mocked,  and  spitefully  entreated,  and  spitted 
on,  and  they  shall  scourge  him  and  put  him  to  death." 

Such  were  the  ingredients,  deducible,  from  the  prophetic  writ- 
ings, which  filled  the  cup  that  Satan,  in  accordance  with  the 
counsels  of  Eternal  Wisdom,  was  to  present  to  the  Son  of  the 
Most  High.  And  believe  me,  .these  counsels  went  far,  very  far 
beyond  all  that  we  understand  by  martyrdom,  chastisement, 
purification,  or  trial.  The  immaculate  and  lighteous  Saviour 
did  not  require  correction  as  for  himself;  and  if  a  purification 
had  been  salutary  for#  him,  it  needed  not — unless  some  gigantic 
shadow  had  for  a  time*  obscured  divine  justice — to  have  come 
upon  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  in  the  form  of  such  degrading 
infamy,  unheard-of  reproach  and  humiliation,  and  such  unparal- 
leled suffering.  The  passion  of  our  Lord  has  an  infinitely  more 
profound  significancy;  and  it  requires  only  a  cursory  glance  at 
the  narrative  to  discover  that  this  was  the  case.  Observe  what 
the  Evangelist  informs  us  respecting  the  way  and  manner  in  which 
the  Twelve  received  their  Master's  communication.  He  states, 
that  "  they  understood  none  of  these  things,  and  this  saying  was 
hidden  from  them,  neither  knew  they  the  things  which  were 
spoken." 

How  striking  is  this  circumstance !  "Who  .  can  resist  inquiring 
what  it  was  they  did  not  understand  ?  They  could  not  possibly 
have  mistaken  what  their  Master  said  respecting  his  suffering 
and  dying  at  Jerusalem.  That  he  intended  to  seal  the  truth  of 
his  doctrine  by  his  death,  was  an  idea  which  must  also  have 
occurred  to  them.     Yet  Luke  assures  us  that  "  they  understood 


THE   ANOUNCEMENT.  17 

none  of  those  things,  and  knew  not  what  it  was  that  was  spoken." 
Is  it  not  obvious  that  the  Evangelist's  meaning  is  that  he  who 
would  only  apprehend  the  history  of  Christ's  sufferings,  and  re- 
gard his  passion  as  a  martyrdom,  not  essentially  different  from 
the  bloody  testimony  borne  by  other  saints,  does  not  understand 
its  true  signification  ?  We  have  here  an  evident  reference  to  an 
infinitely  deeper  cause  of  the  tragical  termination  of  our  Saviour's 
life  before  us. 

It  is  confessedly  true  that  the  Eternal  Father,  by  an  almighty 
decree,  might  have  annihilated  the  fallen  race,  in  which  sin  had 
taken  root,  and  thus  have  put  an  end  to  the  evil.  But  we  were 
to  live  and  not  die.  And  thus  he  has  not  only  caused  the  sin  of 
man  to  act  as  a  foil  for  the  display  of  the  full  radiance  of  his  at- 
tributes, and  especially  of  his  love ;  but  has  also,  by  the  offering 
up  of  his  Son,  provided  a  means  of  salvation  by  which  we  might 
attain  to  a  much  higher  stage  of  glory  and  relationship  to  God 
than  we  once  possessed  in  our  progenitor,  or  than  we  should 
ever  have  attained  if  we  had  not  fallen.  Our  fall  afforded  him 
the  opportunity  of  showing  that  in  the  destruction  of  sin  he 
could  not  only  manifest  his  justice,  but  also  glorify  his  mercy  in 
remitting  and  forgiving  sin,  without  infringing  upon  his  right- 
eousness. We  sinned,  and  were  exposed  to  the  curse.  The  word 
that  was  with  God,  and  was  God,  then  was  made  flesh.  The 
eternal  son  became  our  brother;  took  upon  himself  our  sin,  in 
the  way  of  a  mysterious  imputation ;  paid  our  debt  to  the  maj- 
esty of  the  inviolable  law;  covered  our  nakedness  with  his 
righteousness;  presented  us,  as  those  in  whose  stead  he  ap- 
peared, unblamable  and  acceptable  to  the  Father;  excited  the 
hallelujahs  of  angels  at  our  exaltation ;  elevated  us  to  a  partici- 
pation of  his  own  riches,  blessedness,  and  privileges;  pitched 
tents  of  peace  for  us  around  the  throne  of  God ;  and  connected 
us  with  himself  by  the  bonds  of  eternal  gratitude  and  affection. 
Such  is  the  edifice  which  the  Almighty  reared  upon  the 
ruins  of  sin;  and  of  which  the  disciples,  at  that  time,  had 
not  the  remotest  idea.  In  the  sequel,  they  recognized  the 
divine  method  of  salvation  and  of  peace ;  and  how  happy  were 
they,  subsequently,  in  the  knowledge  of  this  "  great  mystery  of 
godliness ! " 


II. 

THE  ANOINTING. 

Six  days  before  the  Passover,  and,  consequently,  four  before 
the  awful  day  of  crucifixion,  we  find  our  Lord  in  the  peaceful 
village  of  Bethany,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
where  He  was  wont  so  willingly  to  stay.  We  meet  with  him 
tliis  time  in  the  house  of  a  man  named  Simon,  where  his  fol- 
lowers had  prepared  him  a  feast.  He  appears  before  us  in  the 
unassuming  form  of  a  guest,  invited  with  others ;  but  look  a  little 
more  narrowly,  and  you  will  see  him,  even  there,  as  John  after- 
ward saw  him  in  vision,  only  in  a  somewhat  different  sense,  as 
"walking  amid  the  candlesticks." 

The  Lord  Jesus  has  no  need  to  testify  of  himself ;  for  those  who 
are  present  bear  witness  of  him  in  the  most  eloquent  manner. 
Look,  first,  at  Mary  and  her  sister  Martha.  They  are  wo- 
men possessing  true  nobility  of  soul,  respected  by  all,  sensible, 
clear-sighted,  and  sober-minded.  Martha,  cheerful,  active,  and 
busy;  Mary,  thoughtful  and  contemplative.  Both,  however,  re- 
cline with  all  their  hopes  on  Jesus.  He  is,  to  both,  the  living  pil- 
lar which  supports  their  heaven;  their  prospects  of  a  blissful 
futurity  arise  solely  from  his  mediation ;  and  the  peace  and  com- 
fort, which  refreshes  them  in  life  and  death,  they  derive  from 
Christ  alone  as  the  source.  What  a  high  idea  must  this  fact  alone 
afford  us  of  the  Man  of  Nazareth ! 

Look  around  you  further.  There  are  the  disciples.  Peter, 
Andrew,  John,  James,  Nathanael,  Thomas,  and  the  rest.  You 
formerly  saw  them  listening  to  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness, 
like  a  flock  of  scattered  and  helpless  sheep.  You  learn  to  know 
them  as  people  who  were  incited  to  seek  for  help,  by  a  very  dif- 
ferent motive  than  a  mere  thirst  for  knowledge.  You  found 
them  to  be  men  whose  hearts  were  grievously  burdened  by  sin, 
and  by  the  anticipation  of  "  the  wrath  to  come,"  and  whose  in- 
ward peace  was  entirely  at  an  end,  after  having  seen  God  in  the 


THE  ANOINTING.  19 

fiery  splendor  of  his  law,  with  its  requirements  and  threatenings. 
Neither  man  nor  angel  was  able  to  comfort  them ;  but  since  they 
had  found  Jesus,  their  thoroughly  humbled  souls  were  like  the 
sparrow  which  has  found  a  house,  and  the  swallow  a  nest,  where 
they  may  drop  their  weary  wings.  They  are  now  elevated  above 
all  anxiety.  What  bright  rays  of  light  does  this  fact  also  shed 
upon  Jesus !  How  highly  does  it  £xalt  him  above  the  idea  of 
being  a  mere  mortal ! 

But  alas!  among  the  disciples  "we  still  find  Judas,  the  child  of 
darkness,  the  son  of  perdition.  He,  indeed,  was  never,  in  his  own 
eyes,  a  helpless  sinner ;  he  had  never  thirsted  after  God ;  he  was 
never  truly  devout;  nor  had  ever  set  his  affections  on  things 
above.  It  may  be  asked,  what  induced  him  to  force  himself  into 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  Jesus  ?  Assuredly,  first,  the  irresistible 
and  overpowering  impression  of  the  superhuman  greatness  and 
dignity  of  the  Son  of  David,  and  then,  doubtless,  also,  an  ambi- 
tious desire  of  being  called  to  act  some  important  part  in  the  new 
kingdom,  to  establish  which  the  former  had  evidently  come. 
Thus,  the  presentiment  of  the  traitor  aided  in  glorifying  the  per- 
son of  the  Lord  Jesus.  The  divine  majesty  of  Immanuel  shone  so 
Dowerfully  through  his  human  form  that  its  rays  penetrated  even 
into  the  darkness  of  Iscariot's  soul. 

But  let  us  further  inspect  the  circle  of  guests.  Who  is  the  master 
of  the  house  ?  He  is  called  Simon,  and  bears  the  surname  of  "  the 
Leper."  He  bears  it  to  the  honor  of  Jesus ;  for  the  name  betokens 
what  he  was,  before  the  Lord  pronounced  over  him  the  almighty 
words,  "Be  clean!"  Simon  had  once  been  infected  with  that 
horrible  disease  which  no  earthly  physician  was  able  to  heal,  and 
which  he  alone  could  remove  who  had  inflicted  it— the  Almighty, 
and  he  who  could  testify,  saying,  "  I  and  my  Father  are  one." 
Simon,  stand  forward,  and  show  thyself  to  every  skeptic  as  a 
living  monument  of  the  divine  fullness  which  dwelt  in  Christ! 
All  Bethany  knows  that  he  had  prepared  this  feast  for  the  Lord 
Jesus,  solely  from  feelings  of  gratitude  for  the  marvelous  cure 
which  he  had  experienced  through  him ;  and  even  his  enemies  can 
not  deny  that,  in  this  man,  a  monument  is  erected  to  the  Lord 
Jesus,  which  speaks  louder  and  more  effectually  than  any  inscrip- 
tion is  able  to  do. 


20  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

But  look !  Who  is  it  that  sits  next  to  Jesus  ? — the  young  man 
with  piercing  eye  and  sunny  countenance.  Oh,  do  you  not  recog- 
nize him  ?  Once  you  saw  him  lying  shrouded  on  the  bier.  You 
were  present  when  his  corpse  was  carried  out,  followed  by  his 
weeping  sisters  and  a  mourning  crowd.  You  looked  down  into 
the  gloomy  vault  into  which  it  was  lowered.  But  you  were  equally 
witnesses  of  that  which  took  place  four  days  after,  when  One  ap- 
proached the  grave  who  called  himself  "  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life,"  and  then  commanded  the  stone  to  be  taken  away  from  its. 
mouth.  You  heard  the  words  of  Martha,  "  Lord,  by  this  time  he 
stinketh,"  and  the  majestic  reply,  "  Said  I  not  unto  thee  that  if 
thou  wouldst  believe  thou  shouldst  see  the  glory  of  God  ?"  And 
then,  after  the  stone  had  been  removed,  how  the  Lord,  lifting  up 
his  eyes  toward  heaven,  over  the  putrifying  corpse,  exclaimed, 
"  Father  I  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast  heard  me.  And  I  knew 
that  Thou  hearest  me  always ;  but  because  of  the  people  which 
stand  by,  I  said  it,  that  they  may  believe  that  Thou  hast  sent  me  1" 
and  then  how,  with  a  loud,  commanding,  and  creating  voice,  he 
called  down  into  the  sepulcher,  "Lazarus,  come  forth!"  and  you 
know  what  followed. 

He  that  was  once  dead,  now  sits  among  the  guests,  having  es- 
caped from  the  adamantine  prison  of  the  tomb.  He  lives,  and  is 
vigorous  and  happy ;  and  it  never  occurs,  either  to  friend  or  foe, 
to  deny  that  Lazarus  once  lay  as  a  corpse  in  the  grave,  and  now 
lives  again  at  the  omnipotent  word  of  Jesus.  We  find  abundant 
traces  that  the  Pharisees  were  beside  themselves  with  rage  and 
envy  at  this  miracle,  but  not  the  smallest  that  any  one  ventured 
to  deny  or  even  to  doubt  the  fact  itself.  There  he  sits,  and  com- 
pletes the  row  of  lights  amid  which  Jesus  walks.  No  herald  is 
here  required  to  testify  of  Jesus;  no  harper  to  strike  his  chords  to 
his  honor.  He  that  looks  at  Lazarus  hears  in  spirit  a  whole  choir 
exultingly  exclaiming,  "  Judah,  thou  art  he  whom  thy  brethren 
praise !"  No  sacred  melody  is  needed  to  chaunt  the  glory  of  Jesus ; 
Lazarus  is  a  sufficient  hymn  of  praise  to  the  King  of  Grlory  from  the 
world  above. 

Oh,  then,  go  to  Jesus,  my  dear  readers,  as  the  Lord  from  heav- 
en, the  Prince  of  Life,  the  Conqueror  of  Death,  for  such  he  is, 
when  regarded  even  in  the  light  that  streams  upon  him  from  the 


THE  ANOINTING.  21 

circle  which  surrounds  him  at  Bethany.  And  he  is  still  some- 
thing^ more  than  all  this. 

He  is  staying  at  Bethany.  He  has  now  accomplished  his  public 
ministry.  Several  times  has  he  given  his  disciples  of  late  to  under- 
stand that  such  is  the  case.  He  has  told  them  and  revealed  to 
them  as  much  as  they  were  able  to  bear.  The  Comforter,  who  is 
to  succeed  him,  will  instruct  them  further.  According  to  the  views 
of  those  who  call  themselves  "the  enlightened"  among  us,  he 
ought  now  to  have  completed  his  work,  and  fulfilled  the  whole  of 
his  mission.  But,  in  his  own  eyes,  this  is  by  no  means  the  case. 
For  we  do  not  see  him  now  retiring  into  silence,  nor  returning  to 
his  heavenly  Father ;  but  saying,  on  the  contrary,  "  I  have  a  bap- 
tism to  be  baptized  with,  and  how  am  I  straitened  till  it  is  accom- 
plished?" He  knows  that  the  principal  task  assigned  him  has 
still  to  be  performed.  He  is  on  the  road  to  Jerusalem,  with  the 
full  consciousness  of  all  that  is  passing  and  concerting  there ;  that 
his  enemies  are  now  in  earnest  to  seize  him,  and  get  rid  of  him ; 
that  the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees  have  already  "  given  a  com- 
mandment, that  if  any  man  knew  where  he  were,  he  should  show 
it,  that  they  might  take  him."  All  this  was  known  to  him ;  but 
far  from  seeking  to  escape  the  snare  which  was  laid  for  him,  he 
goes  directly  toward  it.  He  was  now — according  to  his  own 
words — to  be  delivered  to  the  heathen,  crucified,  and  slain;  and 
there  was  a  necessity  for  it.  "  The  Lamb  of  God  which  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world,"  was  not  yet  sacrificed.  His  assertion, 
that  "  the  Son  of  Man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  min- 
ister, and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many,"  was  not  yet  fulfilled. 
The  blood,  to  which  the  whole  of  the  Old  Testament  had  pointed 
as  the  procuring  cause  of  all  remission  of  sin,  had  not  yet  stained 
the  fatal  tree,  but  still  flowed  through  his  veins.  And  for  this  he 
prepared  himself  on  the  evening  he  spent  at  Bethany. 

Above  all  things,  therefore,  let  us  draw  nigh  to  Jesus  as  our 
sole  and  everlasting  High  Priest,  as  our  Mediator,  Surety,  and 
Ransom.  "  Without  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission." 
"  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  The  saints 
above  "have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb."  0  delay  no  longer,  therefore,  to  follow  their 
example!     Jesus,  in  his  crown  of  thorns  and  bleeding  wounds, 


22  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

must  be  the  object  of  your  love  and  the  ground  of  your  hope,  or  else 
he  is  nothing  to  you,  and  you  are  in  danger  of  eternal  perdition. 

The  Lord  has  just  placed  himself  at  table,  when  Mary  ap- 
proaches, deeply  affected  by  gratitude,  veneration,  and  love,  and 
with  a  foreboding  of  what  is  about  to  befall  him.  She  feels  impelled 
to  display  to  him  her  inmost  soul  once  more,  and  to  manifest  her 
reverential  and  devout  attachment  to  him.  But  how  is  she  to  do 
this  ?  Words  seem  to  her  too  poor.  Presents  she  has  none  to 
make.  But  what  she  has  that  is  valuable — possibly  a  legacy  left 
by  her  mother — is  an  alabaster  vessel  of  pure  oil  of  spikenard,  much 
valued  in  the  East,  and  used  only  on  peculiarly  festive  occasions. 
She  brings  it  with  her.  She  does  not  intend  to  pour  out  a  few 
drops  only,  but  that  it  should  be  wholly  an  emblem  of  her  profound 
devotion  to  the  Lord  of  Glory.  With  the  utmost  reverence  she 
approaches  her  Divine  Friend,  breaks  unobservedly  behind  him  the 
well-closed  vessel,  sheds  the  spikenard  upon  his  head  and  feet,  then 
humbly  bends  herself  down  and  wipes  the  latter  with  her  loosened 
tresses. 

"And  the  whole  house  was  filled  with  the  ointment."  Yes, 
we  may  well  believe  that  this  odor  ascended  up  even  into  the 
throne-room  of  heaven,  and  was  inhaled  with  delight  by  the 
holy  angels.  For  the  earthly  anointing  oil  was  only  the  symbol 
and  vehicle  of  that  which  the  wise  virgins  possessed  in  their 
vessels,  when  they  went  forth  to  meet  the  bridegroom.  In  this 
affectionate  and  symbolical  act,  a  degree  of  devotedness  was 
manifested  such  as  is  rarely  exhibited.  Mary  desires  to  belong 
to  Christ  for  time  and  eternity ;  to  cleave  to  him  by  faith,  like 
the  ivy  to  the  tree,  round  which  it  entwines  itself.  She  wishes 
to  live  in  his  light,  like  a  dark  planet  in  the  beams  of  the  sun, 
which  lends  it  its  radiance.  Mary  knows  no  anchor  of  hope,  no 
ground  of  consolation,  no  way  to  heaven,  except  through  his 
mediation ;  and  were  she  to  imagine  existence  without  him,  she 
could  only  think  of  herself  as  in  the  jaws  of  despair,  and  irrecov- 
erably lost.  He  is  her  last  resource,  but  at  the  same  time  all- 
sufficient  for  her  eternal  salvation.  Hence  she  cleaves  to  him 
with  all  her  soul,  and  nothing  is  able  to  divide  her  from  him. 
He  is  always  in  her  thoughts,  her  sole  delight,  and  the  supreme 


THE   ANOINTING.  23 

object  of  her  affections — all  which  she  expresses  in  the  act  of 
anointing  just  mentioned. 

The  whole  circle  of  the  guests  at  Bethany  are  deeply  touched 
by  Mary's  significant  act.  Only  in  the  case  of  one  does  its  sweet 
harmony  sound  as  discord;  only  one  of  them  with  repugnance 
rejects  the  grateful  odor.  Ah,  we  imagine  who  it  is !  No  other 
than  the  unhappy  Judas,  the  child  of  darkness.  Never,  probably, 
has  frigid  self-love  stood  in  such  horrible  contrast  with  warm  and 
sacred  affection,  as  was  the  case  here,  in  the  cold  and  really  offens- 
ive expression,  "  Why  this  waste  ?  Why  was  not  this  ointment 
sold  for  three  hundred  pence,  and  given  to  the  poor  ?"  Alas,  how 
deeply  is  the  miserable  man  already  fallen !  "  The  poor  ?"  0  thou 
hypocrite !  As  if  the  reason  was  unknown  to  his  Master  why  he 
would  rather  have  the  ointment  sold.  "For  three  hundred 
pence !"  He  knows  how  to  value  the  spikenard,  but  is  unable  to 
appreciate  the  love  that  provided  it,  for  he  is  wholly  destitute  of 
such  a  feeling. 

0  let  the  example  of  Judas  serve  as  a  warning  to  any  of  my 
readers  who  betray  a  strong  inclination  to  mistake  the  love  of  a 
soul  like  Mary's  to  her  Saviour ;  and  when  it  is  manifested,  can 
speak  of  it  with  a  certain  inward  disgust  and  bitterness ;  and  if 
not  of  waste,  yet  ftf  enthusiasm,  cant,  hypocrisy,  etc.  Know, 
that  on  such  occasions,  a  slight  similarity  to  the  features  of  the 
traitor  Judas  passes  over  the  face  of  your  inner  man.  You  have 
need  to  be  most  carefully  upon  your  guard,  not  to  let  that  which 
you  feel  at  such  moments  extend  itself  till  it  gradually  makes 
you  brothers  of  the  traitor.  0,  when  once  the  scales  fall  from 
your  eyes — and  God  grant  that  this  may  be  the  case  ere  long ! — 
and  your  souls  awake  from  their  Pharisaic  dreams,  at  the  awful 
thought  of  eternity;  when  pursued  by  the  curse  of  the  law, 
terrified  at  the  judgment  to  come,  and  sorely  pressed  by  Death, 
the  king  of  terrors,  you  learn  to  thank  and  praise  the  Almighty 
that,  as  a  last  resource,  the  bleeding  arms  of  Jesus  still  stand 
open  to  you :  you  will  then  no  longer  knit  your  brows,  when  you 
meet  with  one  who  has  presented  his  whole  heart  to  the  Lord ; 
nor  feel  repugnance  at  the  fervor  with  which  Asaph  exclaims, 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee,  and  there  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  besides  Thee !"     0  no ;  you  will  then  weep  in  secret, 


24  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

penitential  tears,  that  you  could  ever  have  so  mistaken  the  most 
precious  thing  on  earth,  the  love  of  Christ,  and  lament,  with  us, 
that  we  do  not  love  him  as  we  ought. 

Observe  how  the  Lord  Jesus  appreciates  the  act  of  Mary.  Like 
a  faithful  advocate,  he  immediately  enters  the  lists  on  her  behalf, 
against  Judas  and  the  transient  impression  made  by  his  dark 
spirit  upon  the  disciples,  and  says,  while  intimating  to  Judas 
that  he  was  well  aware  of  the  cause  of  his  displeasure,  "  Why 
trouble  you  the  woman?  Let  her  alone  (do  not  confuse  her); 
she  has  wrought  a  good  work  on  me.  The  poor  ye  have  always 
with  you,  but  me  ye  have  not  always.  Against  the  day  of  my 
burying  hath  she  kept  this"  (or,  according  to  another  Evangel- 
ist, "  She  is  come  aforehand  to  anoint  my  body  to  the  burying.") 
"Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  wheresoever  this  gospel  shall  be 
preached  throughout  the  whole  world,  this  also  that  she  hath 
done  shall  be  spoken  of  for  a  memorial  of  her."  Do  but  notice, 
how  He,  who  was  otherwise  so  spare  in  commending  human 
works,  mentions,  with  a  particular  emphasis,  Mary's  work  as 
good.  All  the  world  is  to  know  that  such  devotedness  as 
Mary  shows  him  is  considered  valuable,  and  how  highly  he  es- 
timates this  feeling  as  being  the  source  of  Mary's  act  All  the 
world  is  to  be  informed  that  the  affectionate  relation  in  which 
Mary  stands  toward  him,  is  nothing  overstrained  or  enthusiastic, 
but  that  which  alone  beatifies  its  possessor.  And  that  every 
one  may  know  it,  he  has  caused  this  act  of  Mary's  to  be  repeat- 
edly inserted  in  his  Gospel.  What  he  then  predicted  has  taken 
place;  and  wherever  this  gospel  is  preached  in  the  world,  that 
which  she  did,  is  mentioned  as  a  memorial  of  her,  even  to  this 
day. 

Scarcely  had  our  Lord  ended  this  remarkable  speech,  when, 
as  Matthew  relates,  "  One  of  the  twelve,  called  Judas  Iscariot, 
went  unto  the  chief  priests,  and  said  unto  them,  What  will  ye 
give  me,  and  I  will  deliver  him  unto  you  ?  And  they  covenanted 
with  him  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  And  from  that  time,  he 
sought  opportunity  to  betray  him."  Horrible!  Where,  in 
all  the  world,  can  we  meet  with  a  contrast  so  striking,  so  ap- 
palling, and  beyond  measure  dreadful,  as  is  here  presented  to  us 
in  Mary's  tender  and  affectionate  act,   and    the  horrible  pro- 


THE    ANOINTING.  25 

• 

cedure  of  this  unhappy  son  of  perdition  ?  He  is  already  so  far 
gone  that  words  of  compassion,  which  might  have  tended  to  his 
eternal  salvation,  when  reaching  the  atmosphere  of  his  soul, 
transmute  themselves  into  a  baneful  essence,  and  producing 
vexation  and  bitter  hatred  instead  of  repentance,  completely 
pervade  the  unhappy  man  as  with  a  mortal  poison.  "  He  went 
out."  Horrible  departure !  He  turns  his  back  upon  his  only 
Saviour,  because  he  now  feels  that  He  sees  through  him.  He 
rushes  out  into  the  night,  to  which  as  a  child  of  darkness,  he 
belongs — nay,  he  rushes  out  into  a  more  awful  night  than  the 
natural  one ;  and  the  divine  "  Woe !"  follows  him  upon  his 
way. 

We  shudder.  We  shrink  from  the  idea  of  accompanying  the 
wretched  man,  and  return  with  increased  fervor  to  Jesus. 
"  Against  the  day  of  my  burial  hath  she  kept  this,"  says  our 
Lord.  We  understand  his  meaning.  He  sees,  his  death  and 
resurrection  at  one  glance.  An  embalming  of  his  body  was  to 
take  place  while  he  was  still  alive,  since  there  was  no  time 
afforded  for  it  after  his  death.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
Mary  had  any  idea  of  this  ;  but  a  presentiment  of  his  approach- 
ing departure  certainly  affected  her  heart ;  and  anticipations  of 
its  saving  significancy  fanned  the  holy  glow  of  her  love  to  a 
brilliant  flame,  and  contributed  to  impel  her  to  that  effusion  of 
affection  in  Simon's  house  which  we  have  been  just  contemplat- 
ing. Her  Master's  love,  which  was  even  unto  death,  excited  her's 
to  him  in  the  highest  degree ;  even  as  the  love  of  his  people  is 
wont  to  be  enkindled,  most  of  all,  by  the  remembrance  of  Christ's 
sufferings. 

But  wherever  the  love  of  Jesus  finds  room,  there  will  never  be 
a  want  of  activity  in  relieving  the  distresses  of  others.  "  The 
poor,"  says  our  Lord,  while  casting  the  words  like  an  arrow  into 
the  soul  of  Judas,  "the  poor  ye  have  always  with  you;"  by 
which  he  means  that  Mary  will  not  be  deficient  in  her  charity  to 
them.  "  But  me,"  he  adds,  in  conclusion,  "  ye  have  not  always," 
and  these  words  are  addressed  to  all  my  readers,  who  can  not  yet 
call  Jesus  their  Saviour. 

O  take  them  to  heart,  my  friends !  Him  you  have  no  longer, 
when  the  wings  of  death   suddenly  overshadows   you,  or  when 

2 


26  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

your  senses  depart  under  the  influence  of  disease,  and  the  mes- 
sage of  salvation  no  longer  penetrates  through  the  crowd  of  un- 
bridled imaginations.  You  have  him  no  longer,  when  Grod,  the 
Righteous  Judge,  gives  you  up  at  length  to  "strong  delusions," 
and  permits  them  to  take  up  their  permanent  abode  in  your 
minds,  because  you  have  long  enough  hardened  yourselves  against 
his  calls  to  repentance.  You  have  him  no  longer,  when  the  last 
great  "hour  of  temptation,"  with  its  infernal  delusions,  as  well  as 
with  its  persecuting  horrors,  shall  break  in  upon  you,  and  when — 
to  use  a  prophet's  words — "Your  feet  shall  stumble  upon  the 
dark  mountains."  You  have  him  no  longer,  if,  in  the  abundance 
of  your  prosperity,  you  are  ready  to  exclaim,  with  the  man  in  the 
Gospel,  u  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years :  cat, 
drink,  and  be  merry !"  to  whom  the  horrifying  announcement  was 
made,  "  Thou  fool !  this  night  shall  thy  soul  be  required  of  thee." 
Therefore  "  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come !"  Hasten  to  save  your- 
selves. Stay  not  in  all  the  plain.  Let  nothing  hinder  you  from 
immediately  repairing  to  the  blessed  Saviour,  who  has  so  graci- 
ously assured  us,  that  whosoever  cometh  unto  him,  he  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out. 


III. 

THE    ENTRY    INTO    JERUSALEM. 

"Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  or  do  we  look  for  another!" 
Questions  like  this  lie  heavily  on  the  hearts  of  many  in  the  pres- 
ent clay,  whose  intentions,  in  other  respects,  are  honest  and  sin- 
cere. "Is  he  the  Lord  from  heaven?  Is  he  the  King  of 
Israel?"  "No!"  is  the  response  of  an  apostatizing  world; 
and,  alas!  the  lamentable  condition  of  his  Church  on  earth 
seems  only  to  confirm  this  negative  assertion.  For  if  he  fills 
the  throne  of  omnipotence  and  glory,  why  do  the  people  rage? 
If  he  governs  all  things,  why  does  Satan  so  frequently  triumph? 


THE   EXTRY    INTO    JERUSALEM.  27 

If  his  arm  reaches  from  heaven  to  earth,  why  does  he  not  close 
the  mouths  of  blasphemers  ?  If  he  wields  the  sword  of  Divine 
justice,  why  does  he  not  immolate  those  who  defy  him  and  lay 
waste  his  vineyard  ?  If  all  power  is  at  kis  command,  why  does 
he  not  compel,  by  signs  and  wonders,  the  glory  which  is  his 
due?  And  if  he  only  need  put  forth  his  breath  to  reanimate 
the  dead  and  refresh  the  wilderness,  why  have  not  the  wastes  of 
the  heathen  world  long  ago  flourished,  and  the  deserts  blossomed 
as  the  rose  ? 

O  how  often  do  these  and  similar  questions  urge  themselves 
even  upon  believers  j  and  how  inclined  they  are  to  doubt 
whether  he  is  that  which  they  think  him  to  be !  But  doubt  is 
the  worst  enemy  to  peace;  and  hence  nothing  is  more  accept- 
able to  those  who  are  sincere  than  that  which  disables  and  de- 
stroys the  former.  To  such,  the  narrative  of  our  Lord's  triumphant 
entry  into  Jerusalem  will  be,  therefore,  extremely  welcome,  since 
it  scatters  every  cloud  of  uncertainty,  displays  a  Divinely-sealed 
attestation  of  the  Messiahship  and  kingly  dignity  of  Christ,  and 
again  loosens  our  tongue-tied  hearts,  reanimates  our  faith,  and 
causes  us  joyfully  to  exclaim,  "  Yes,  Thou  art  the  Christ  1  Blessed 
art  Thou  who  comest  in  the  name  of  the  Lord !  Hosannah  in  the 
highest!" 

That  he  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  G-od,  and  that  we  have  every 
reason  to  trust  in  him,  is  confirmed  to  us,  first,  by  his  own  con- 
sciousness of  being  so.  We  find  him  proceeding  to  Jericho  on 
his  last  visit  to  Jerusalem.  On  arriving  at  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
he  requests  two  of  his  disciples,  in  a  commanding  tone,  to  go 
into  the  village  over  against  them,  where  they  would  find  an 
ass  tied,  and  a'  colt  with  her.  These  they  were  to  loose  and  bring 
to  him. 

Observe  here  that  he  sees  the  animals  he  is  in  want  of  at  a 
greater  distance  than  the  eye  could  reach.  Even  in  this  cir- 
cumstance we  see  something  superhuman  breaking  through  the 
lowliness  of  the  Saviour's  form.  He  then  gives  instructions 
respecting  the  ass  and  her. colt,  with  a  decision  which  betrays 
to  us  the  Governor  of  all  things.  He  tells  them,  "  If  any  man 
say  aught  unto  you,  ye  shall  say,  the  Lord  hath  need  of  them, 
and  straightway  he  will  send  them."     He  says,  "  the  Lord,"  and 


28  THE    OUTER    COURT. 

not  "  the  Master"  only,  or  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth."  This  is  a  title 
of  majesty,  a  name  of  dignity,  by  which  he  elevates  himself 
high  above  every  creature,  and  declares  himself  to  be  Jehovah's 
other  self.  "  The  Lord  hath  need  of  them."  As  the  mere  Son 
of  Man,  he  never  could  have  spoken  this  of  himself  without  being 
guilty  of  blasphemy.  But  he  knows  who  he  is,  and  how  he  may 
call  and  entitle  himself,  and  he  utters  the  words  with  firmness  and 
dignity. 

But  will  the  owner  feel  induced,  at  the  mere  expression  of  the 
disciples — "  The  Lord  hath  need  of  them  " — to  resign  the  animals 
to  them?  Assuredly  he  will.  The  Lord  has  no  doubt  of  it, 
but  is  perfectly  confident  that,  as  the  Lord  from  heaven,  there 
was  nothing  which  was  not  his  own,  that  he  had  power  over 
all  things,  and  that  his  Eternal  Father  would  grant  such  a  power 
with  his  words  that,  as  he  expressly  says,  the  owner  would 
"  straightway"  send  them.  Oh,  let  us  revive  from  our  state  of 
despondency  by  the  consideration  of  our  Lord's  self-consciousness, 
as  here  manifested,  which  substantiates  his  superhuman  glory  infi- 
nitely more  than  the  whole  weight  of  antichristian  objections  to 
prove  the  contrary. 

But  hold!  unbelief  finds  even  here  a  backway  by  which  it 
expects  to  be  able  to  escape.  It  says,  "  The  owner  of  the  ass 
and  its  colt  might  have  been  a  friend  of  the  Prophet  of  Nazar- 
eth; and  presupposing  this,  the  fact  of  his  willingly  parting 
with  the  animals  loses  all  its  importance."  Still,  the  all-seeing 
eye  of  Jesus  is  not  closed  by  this,  and  his  majestic  expression — 
"  the  Lord " — likewise  remains  in  full  force.  But  though  un- 
belief may  bring  forward  additional  objections,  yet  still  stronger 
and  more  evident  confirmations  appear.  The  ass's  colt  is  led 
away  with  its  parent.  The  disciples  lay  their  garments  upon  it 
as  a  covering,  and  the  Lord  seats  himself  upon  the  animal,  in 
order  to  ride  into  Jerusalem.  This  seems  a  trifling  feature  in 
the  case,  and  scarcely  worthy  of  notice  ;  but  look  a  little  deeper, 
and  its  importance  will  increase.  Our  Lord,  by  this  act,  testi- 
fies something  infinitely  greater  respecting  himself  than  would 
have  been  the  case  had  he  suddenly  placed  himself  upon  a 
royal  throne,  or  had  made  his  entry  into  the  Holy  City  beneath 
a  gilded  canopy,  and  arrayed  in   a  purple  robe.     It  is  evident, 


THE   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM.  29 

and  the  Scriptures  expressly  inform  us,  that  our  Lord  had  in 
view,  at  that  moment,  an  ancient  divine  prophecy.  You  will 
read  it  in  Zech.  ix.  8,  9.  Jehovah  there  says — predicting  the 
future — "I  will  encamp  about  my  house  because  of  the  army, 
because  of  him  that  passeth  by,  and  because  of  him  that 
returneth  (those  that  act  as  sentinels),  and  no  oppressor  shall 
pass  through  them  any  more ;  for  now  I  have  seen  (its  wretched- 
ness) with  my  eyes."  After  this  general  reference  to  a  future 
deliverance,  it  is  said,  "  Rejoice  greatly,  0  daughter  of  Zion ! 
shout,  0  daughter  of  Jerusalem  !  Behold  thy  king  cometh  unto 
thee ;  he  is  just,  and  having  salvation,  lowly,  and  riding  upon  an 
ass,  and  upon  a  colt,  the  foal  of  an  ass." 

This  is  a  delightful  prediction,  at  which  the  whole  world  of 
sinners  ought  to  rejoice.  It  is  a  gracious  star  of  hope  in  the 
hemisphere  of  the  Old  Testament,  greeted  for  centuries  by  the 
saints  of  Grod  with  tears  of  ardent  longing.  More  than  four 
hundred  years  had  elapsed  after  these  words  had  been  uttered, 
when,  on  the  summit  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  the  Man  of  Naza- 
reth appears,  and  calls  to  mind  this  ancient  prophecy.  On  the 
point  of  approaching  Jerusalem,  he  orders  an  ass  and  its  colt  to 
be  brought  him,  seats  himself  upon  one  of  them,  and  publicly 
enters  Jerusalem  upon  it,  in  the  presence  of  assembled  mul- 
titudes. m 

But  what  does  he  testify  by  this  mute  but  significant  action  ? 
What  else  than  that  the  prophet's  words  are  being  fulfilled  in  his 
own  person  ?  What  else  than  that  he  is  the  promised  King  of 
glory,  just,  and  having  salvation,  and  bringing  peace  to  his 
people?  What  else  than  as  if  he  had  said,  "It  is  I,  whose 
dominion  shall  extend  from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  "river  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth?  It  is  I;  therefore  rejoice,  0  daughter  of 
Zion!  and  shout,  0  daughter  of  Jerusalem!"  Yes,  he  an- 
nounces this  as  loudly  as  with  a  voice  of  thunder.  No  other 
meaning  can  lie  at  the  bottom  of  that  scene.  If  Jesus  were  not 
the  promised  King  of  Peace,  with  what  epithet  should  we  be 
compelled  to  designate  that  act?  But  he  knew  what  he  did, 
and  how  far  he  was  justified  in  it;  and  hence,  in  his  entry  into 
Jerusalem,  we  have  a  new,  powerful,  and  actual  proof  that  Christ ' 
was  the  true  Messiah  announced  by  the  prophets,  and  at  the  same 


30  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

time,  the  only-begotten  Son  of  the  Father,  our  Mediator,  and  eter- 
nal High  Priest. 

My  readers,  doubtless,  feel  how  extremely  striking  is  this 
trait  in  our  Lord's  history,  and,  in  fact,  the  passage  on  which 
we  are  meditating  has  never  been  sufficiently  appreciated  from 
this  point  of  view.  The  disciples,  and  even  many  of  the  people 
after  this  event,  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  he  was  no  other 
than  the  Mighty  Prince  of  Peace  so  long  before  predicted. 
Observe  how  he  is  attended.  A  more  than  regal  entry  is  pre- 
pared for  him.  The  people  cast  their  garments  in  the  way, 
bestrew  the  road  with  verdure,  and  precede  and  follow  him  with 
palm-branches  in  their  hands,  as  in  a  triumphal  procession,  and 
there  is  no  end  to  their  exulting  hosannas.  "Hail,"  they  cry, 
u  to  the  Son  of  David !  Blessed  be  he  that  cometh  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord !  Hosanna  in  the  highest !"  Only  think  of  such 
homage  being  paid  to  a  simple  individual,  devoid  of  all  regal 
insignia !  But  it  explains  itself.  The  rider  on  the  lowly  beast 
of  burden  was  seen,  in  part  at  least,  by  the  ancient  prophets, 
surrounded  by  this  homage.  It  could  not  fail  that  Zechariah,  in 
particular,  whose  prophetic  vision  of  the  King  of  Glory  enabled 
him  to  describe  the  scene  as  minutely  as  if  he  had  really  wit- 
nessed it,  fully  dispelled  from  their  minds  any  remains  of  obscur- 
ity, which  might  still  envelop  the  person  of  him  who  was  thus 
entering  Jerusalem.  But  that  which  elevated  their  ideas  of  him 
to  perfect  certainty  was  the  stupendous  miracle  which  he  had 
performed  at  Bethany,  in  raising  Lazarus  from  the  dead.  After 
such  an  occurrence,  how  could  they  be  silent,  or  cease  exultingly 
to  exclaim,  "Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David!" 

The  Pharisees  heard  the  rejoicing  with  secret  indignation,  and 
morosely  said  to  him  who  was  thus  applauded,  "  Master,  rebuke 
thy  disciples."  But  why  did  not  they  rebuke  the  rejoicing  mul- 
titude themselves?  Why  did  they  not  accuse  them  of  being 
under  a  delusion  ?  Why  did  they  not  adduce  as  a  proof  that  the 
raising  of  Lazarus  by  their  rabbi  was  only  a  tale,  as  well  as  that 
one  born  blind  had  been  restored  to  sight  by  him  ?  0  had  they 
been  able  to  do  so  they  certainly  would  not  have  refrained! 
But  this  was  out  of  their  power.  The  facts  were  too  generally 
known  and  acknowledged.     In  despair,  therefore,  they  apply  to 


THE    ENTRY   INTO    JERUSALEM.  31 

the  master  himself  to  rebuke  his  followers.  0  how  does  this 
significaut  trait  tend  also  to  strengthen  our  faith !  But  does  the 
Saviour  comply  with  their  wishes,  and  reprove  the  enthusiastic 
crowd  ?  On  the  contrary,  he  rides  on,  surrounded  by  a  thousand 
hosannahs;  thus  letting  the  ancient  prophecy  of  Zechariah  de- 
velop itself  in  all  its  aspects  in  his  procession,  and  calmly  received 
the  homage  as  his  due,  while  remarking  to  the  Pharisees,  "I 
tell  you  that  if  these  should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would 
immediately  cry  out."  My  friends,  what  more  can  you  desire  ? 
Nothing  under  heaven  is  more  fully  proved  than  that  the  Lord 
Jesus  knew  himself  to  be  the  God-man,  who  had  been  promised 
and  expected  for  thousands  of  years ;  and  this  is  in  itself  a  suf- 
ficient weapon  for  us  victoriously  to  repel  and  overthrow  all 
objections  which  might  be  raised  against  our  belief  cm  him. 

The  whole  scene  of  the  entrance  of  Jesus  into  Jerusalem  has 
both  its  typical  and  prophetic  side.  The  progress  of  our  Lord, 
so  destitute  of  pomp,  neither  clothed  in  purple,  nor  on  a  gayly 
caparisoned  war-horse,  nor  accompanied  by  ribboned  magnates 
or  dignitaries,  but  in  the  simplest  attire,  on  the  foal  of  an  a^, 
and  surrounded  by  poor  fishermen  and  tradespeople,  give*  us  a 
hint  in  what  manner  Christ,  for  centuries  together,  will  manifest 
himself  on  earth  until  his  second  coming.  And  the  expressly 
quoted,  and  now  accomplished  prophecy  of  Zechariah,  confirms 
and  attests  this,  in  the  words,  "Behold,  thy  king  cometh  unto 
thee  lowly" — a  word  which  implies  at  the  same  time  the  idea  of 
an  entire  absence  of  display,  pomp,  and  dignity ;  and  this  is  the 
attribute  which  is  peculiar  to  his  government  to  this  hour. 

"«But  where  do  we  discover  him  ?"  0  descend  into  the  base- 
ments of  human  society;  become  initiated  into  the  privacy  of 
experimental  religion  in  the  cottage ;  listen  to  the  narratives  of 
"the  quiet  in  the  land."  Eead  the  missionary  records,  which, 
like  Noah's  dove,  fly  toward  us  with  the  green  olive  leaf  of  re- 
freshing intelligence  from  the  regions  of  the  home  and  foreign 
missions.  Inquire  of  the  many  thousands,  who,  in  every  quar- 
ter, and  in  quiet  concealment  at  Jesus's  feet,  are  healed  of  their 
heartfelt  maladies,  and  are  desirous  of  salvation,  or  else,  already 
comforted,  fall  asleep  in  his  name  to  awaken  to  life  eternal.  Do 
this,  and  you  will  no  longer  ask,  Where  is  Christ,  the  King? 


32  THE  OUTER  COURT. 

Truly  lie  is  still  among  you,  with  the  same  power,  love,  and  miraculous 
grace  by  which  he  was  formerly  accompanied.  The  "  Hosanna  to 
the  Son  of  David,"  has  not  yet  ceased  upon  earth,  and  never  wiLL 

"But  will  his  kingdom  prosper  in  the  world?"  '  0  be  not 
anxious  on  this  account!  The  passage  we  have  been  consider- 
ing, affords  a  powerful  panacea  against  such  apprehensions. 
Observe,  first,  what  our  Lord  commissions  his  disciples  to  say  to 
the  owner  of  the  ass  and  its  colt :  "  Say  to  him,  that  the  Lord 
hath  need  of  them,  and  straightway  he  will  send  them."  "  The 
Lord  hath  need  of  them ;" — more  is  not  necessary.  If  he  requires 
them,  all  must  be  at  his  command.  He  speaks,  and  it  is  done; 
he  commands,  and  it  stands  fast  "The  Lord  hath  need  of 
them!"  What  a  glorious  encouragement  for  missionaries;  what 
valuable  consolation  for  the  Church,  when  fears  are  entertained 
for  the  supply  of  faithful  witnesses!  What  an  incomparable 
assurance  that  he  can  never  be  deficient  of  means  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  plans !  Hide  these  words  in  your  spiritual  treas- 
ury, my  friends,  and  refresh  yourselves  with  them  as  often  as  you 
feel  your  courage  fail. 

Observe,  further,  how  the  Lord,  while  fulfilling  to  the  letter 
the  prediction  of  Zechariah  by  the  manner  of  his  entrance  into 
the  Holy  City,  confirms  at  the  same  time,  the  whole  of  the  proph- 
ecies respecting  him.  You  know  what  these  passages  predict. 
According  to  them  Ms  foes  shall  eventually  become  his  footstool ; 
the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  be  his  inheritance,  and  the  Lord  shall 
be  one,  and  his  name  one.  Jerusalem,  cleansed  and  purified, 
shall  become  a  praise  in  the  earth ;  and  there  shall  be  one  fold, 
and  one  shepherd;  and  whatever  else  the  Eternal  Father  may 
have  sworn  to  give  him.  As  infallibly  as  the  one  was  accom- 
plished, so  surely  will  not  the  other  remain  a  mere  type  and 
shadow.  The  literal  fulfillment  of  Zechariah's  prophecy  is  a 
most  striking  pledge  of  the  eventual  accomplishment  of  the 
vision  of  John  in  the  Revelations.  "Behold,  a  white  horse, 
and  he  that  sat  upon  him  is  called  Faithful  and  True,  and  hath  on 
his  vesture  and  on  his  thigh  a  name  written,  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords."  And  in  like  manner  shall  be  fulfilled  that  other 
vision  in  which  he  beheld,  around  the  throne  of  the  Lamb,  that 
host  of  adoring  saints  "  which  no  man  could  number." 


CHRIST    WASHING   HIS    DISCIPLES'    FEET.  33 

Finally,  consider  another  expression  of  Immanuel's,  which 
Luke  records.  When  enraged  at  the  loud  rejoicings  of  his  dis- 
dples  and  the  people,  the  Pharisees  called  upon  the  Lord  Jesus 
to  reprove  them,  he  uttered  the  following  significant  and  ever- 
memorable  words:  "I  tell  you  that  if  these  should  hold  their 
peace,  the  stones  would  immediately  cry  out."  The  Lord,  in 
these  words,  could  not  have  more  clearly  evinced  his  inmost  con- 
viction of  the  invaluable  blessing  the  world  enjoyed  in  him,  and 
the  object  of  his  mission.  For  what  else  do  they  imply  than 
that  'I  am  such  a  Saviour  and  bring  you  such  aid,  and  offer 
you  such  felicity,  that  if  it  produced  no  exultation  and  rejoicing 
among  mankind,  the  Almighty  would  animate  the  lifeless  crea- 
ture to  celebrate  his  love  and  compassion !'  The  Lord,  in  these 
words,  gives  us  also  the  assurance,  that  on  earth,  men  shall  never 
be  silent  concerning  him  and  his  salvation ;  for  should  Israel  and 
Christendom  be  silent,  he  would  animate  the  sons  of  the  desert, 
the  dead  heathen  world,  to  sing  hosannas  to  him. 

This  he  has  done,  is  still  doing,  and  will  continue  to  do. 
Earth's  whole  population  shall  eventually  spread  their  garments 
on  his  path,  and  strew  it  with  palm  branches,  even  as  the  people 
did  on  this  occasion.  As  thousands  did  then,  millions  will  here- 
after shout,  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David !  Blessed  is  he  that 
cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord !  Hosanna  in  the  highest !"  0 
let  us  mingle  with  the  adoring  crowd,  and  once  more  take  our 
Lord's  assertion  to  heart,  that  the  salvation  winch  God  has  pre- 
pared for  us  in  him  is  so  infinitely  great  that  if  we  could  keep 
silence,  the  very  stones  would  cry  out. 


IV. 
CHKIST  WASHING  HIS  DISCIPLES'  FEET. 

We  are  approaching,  in  our  meditations,  a  very  solemn  section 
of  our  Lord's  history.  Jesus  has  completed  his  sojourn  on  earth, 
and  the  eve  of  the  great  and  awful  day  of  atonement  has  arrived. 

2* 


34  THE    OUTER   COURT. 

He  assembles  his  follower,  5  around  him  once  more,  in  the  social 
chamber  of  a  friend's  house  in  Jerusalem.  Once  more  they  are 
permitted  to  look  into  their  Master's  faithful  heart,  and  to  feel 
how  much  Grod  has  given  them  in  him.  Never  was  the  recol- 
lection of  the  affecting  circumstances  which  took  place  that 
evening  erased  from  their  memory.  The  tranquil  majesty  dis- 
played by  their  Lord  and  Master — the  astonishing  degree  of 
ardent  affection  which  manifested  itself  in  every  look,  and  every 
word — the  heavenly  peace  which  shone  forth  in  his  whole  deport- 
ment— his  cheerful  and  filial  resignation  to  the  will  and  counsel 
of  God;  and  with  all  his  dignity,  such  amiable  condescension, 
while  in  every  expression  of  his  lips,  and  in  all  his  actions  and 
conduct,  there  was  something  divinely  profound,  consoling,  and 
mysterious.  The  whole  scene  was  overpowering  and  heart-cheer- 
ing in  a  manner  they  had  never  before  experienced.  They  felt 
themselves  translated,  as  it  were,  into  an  outer-court  of  heaven, 
and  would  have  felt  infinitely  greater  blessedness  than  even  in 
the  glory  of  Mount  Tabor,  had  it  not  been  for  the  anticipation 
of  their  Master's  approaching  departure,  which  threw  a  melan- 
choly gloom  over  their  joy. 

The  Evangelist  John  informs  us,  that  "  before  the  Feast  of  the 
Passover,  when  Jesus  knew  that  His  hour  was  come  that  He 
should  depart  out  of  this  world  unto  the  Father,  having  loved 
His  own  which  were  in  the  world,  He  loved  them  to  the  end." 
What  a  wonderful  style  of  writing  is  this !  Does  it  not  seem  as 
if  the  Evangelist's  heart  beat  audibly  through  the  whole  passage  ? 
Does  not  His  manner  remind  us  of  a  mountain  torrent,  which 
rushes  along,  with  irregular  impetuosity  over  the  rocks?  Is  it 
not  as  if  the  feelings,  which  overpowered  the  beloved  disciple, 
would  not  permit  him  to  reflect  on  the  proper  disposition  of  the 
words — nay,  as  if  he  had  written  under  the  influence  of  tears  of 
adoring  rapture,  and  with  the  consciousness  of  utter  inability  to 
record  that  which  presented  itself  to  him  like  a  vision  from 
another  world,  in  language  which  might  in  any  degree  corre- 
spond with  it?  But  that  which  so  powerfully  affects  his  heart 
above  every  thing  else,  is  the  fact  that  the  Lord  Jesus,  although 
he  was  then  clearly  conscious  that  his  hour  of  return  to  the  bosom 
of  the  Father  was  near  at  hand,  and  although  he  had  already  lived 


CHRIST   WASHING   HIS   DISCIPLES'   FEET.  35 

in  spirit  more  above  than  on  the  ear  ui,  and  heard  from  a  distance 
the  hymns  of  praise,  amid  whose  echoes  he  was  soon  to  re- 
ascend  the  throne  of  Divine  Majesty — yet  he  did  not  forget 
his  followers,  but  still  retained  so  much  room  for  these  pilgrims 
in  this  vale  of  death,  in  his  affectionate  solicitude  and  recol- 
lection. 

And  yet  how  much  sorrow  of  heart  had  these  very  disciples 
occasioned  him  only  a  short  time  before,  by  their  lamentable 
strife  for  precedence,  and  especially  by  their  conduct,  when 
Mary  poured  the  costly  ointment  upon  him;  just  as  if  they 
grudged  their  master  such  honor,  and,  infected  with  the  gloomy 
sentiments  of  the  traitor,  had  even  ventured  to  term  the  love- 
offering  of  the  deeply  affected  woman,  in  a  repudiating  tone  "  a 
waste;"  and  had  suffered  themselves  to  be  so  far  misled  as  to 
make  the  cold  and  heartless  observation  that  it  would  have  been 
better  to  have  sold  the  ointment,  and  have  given  the  money  to 
the  poor,  rather  than  have  spent  it  so  uselessly.  You  remember 
the  mild  and  gentle  reply  which  our  Lord  then  gave  them ;  but 
so  far  was  it  from  humbling  them,  and  causing  them  to  acknowl- 
edge their  fault,  that  it  created  discordant  feelings  within  them, 
and  even  closed  and  estranged  their  hearts  from  him  for  a 
season.  And  yet — 0  comprehend  this  depth  of  fidelity  and 
compassion !  and  yet — the  Evangelist  writes  as  if  the  tears  were 
bursting  from  his  eyes — and  yet  "  having  loved  his  own  which 
were  in  the  world,  he  loved  them  to  the  end."  For  it  was  to 
this  end — is  the  Apostle's  meaning — that  he  associated  with 
sinners,  that  he  might  bear  them  eternally  on  his  heart  Those 
whom  his  Father  had  given  him,  were  more  the  objects  of 
his  affection  than  the  holy  angels  around  the  throne  of  God; 
and  his  love  to  them  increased  as  the  end  drew  near.  0  how 
he  loved  them,  when  he  took  their  sins  with  him  into  judg- 
ment, and  cast  himself  into  the  fire  which  their  transgressions 
had  kindled!  How  he  loved  them,  when  his  own  blood  did 
not  seem  to  him  too  dear  a  price  to  be  paid  for  them,  although 
it  was  they  who  were  the  transgressors !  He  loved  them  to  the 
end;  and  to  this  day  he  loves  them  that  are  his  in  a  similar 
manner.  If  a  feeling  of  heavenly  rapture  thrilled  through  the 
apostle   John   at   such   a   thought;    let   our  hearts,  my  readers, 


36  THE    OUTER   COtTET. 

vibrate  in  like  manner !  Whatever  may  befall  us,  nis  love  con- 
tinues the  same ;  "  For  the  mountains  shall  depart  and  the  hills 
be  removed ;  but  my  kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee,  neither 
shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  removed,  saith  the  Lord,  that 
hath  mercy  on  thee." — Isa.  liv.  10. 

We  return  to  the  chamber  at  Jerusalem,  and  find  the  company 
already  reclining  around  the  paschal  meal.  It  would  seem  that 
at  the  commencement,  little  was  spoken.  But  when  the  Lord  is 
silent,  his  disciple  speaks.  Unvailing  the  heart  of  the  incom- 
parable Eedeemer,  like  a  sanctuary,  he  says,  "Jesus,  knowing 
that  the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  his  hands,  and  that  he 
was  come  from  God,  and  went  to  God."  What  a  knowledge  is 
this !  Had  such  an  idea  sprung  up  in  the  heart  of  any  one  who 
was  a  mere  man,  though  he  were  the  most  excellent  of  his  kind ; 
he  must  either  have  been  an  idiot,  or  the  worst  of  blasphemers, 
that  ever  called  down  the  curse  of  the  Almighty  upon  his  guilty 
head.  We  see  the  Lord  Jesus,  sitting  at  table,  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  eternal  majesty  and  godhead,  of  his  being  the  King 
of  kings  and  the  Lord  of  lords,  as  well  as  the  Mediator,  to 
whose  hands,  for  his  work's  sake,  the  Father  has  committed  all 
things,  including  the  divine  authority  to  forgive  sins;  and,  re- 
garding the  shedding  of  his  blood,  as  having  already  taken  place, 
to  whom  nothing  more  stands  in  the  way  of  his  acting  as  the 
high  priest  and  intercessor  of  his  people,  at  the  bar  of  the  Thrice 
Holy,  in  the  heavens. 

In  this  sublime  and  twofold  consciousness,  we  see  him  unex- 
pectedly rising  up  from  supper;  and  for  what  purpose?  To 
appear  in  his  dignity?  To  display  the  splendor  of  his  divine 
glory  ?  To  constrain  his  disciples  to  bow  the  knee  in  the  dust 
before  him?  One  might  imagine  so;  but  no,  he  has  some- 
thing very  different  in  view.  Look,  what  means  that?  He 
lays  aside  his  upper  garments,  takes  a  towel  and  girds  himself 
with  it ;  pours  water  into  a  basin,  bends  down  to  the  feet  of  the 
disciples,  and  begins  to  wash  them  in  their  turn,  and  then  to 
wipe  them  with  the  towel.  What  a  spectacle !  It  is  enough  to 
make  one  start,  and  to  hold  one's  breath  with  astonishment! 
Are  we  not  ready  to  exclaim  aloud,  "  Lord,  Lord,  what  art  thou 
doing?"     Think  of  the  Holy  One,  who  came  down  from  heaven, 


CHRIST   WASHING   HIS   DISCIPLES'    FEET.  37 

thus  engaged  with  sinners;  the  Majestic  Being,  whom  angels 
adore,  abasing  himself  to  the  occupation  of  a  menial  servant! 
No,  we  should  never  be  able  to  make  such  an  action  agree  with 
his  high  dignity,  were  we  not  acquainted  with  his  wonderful  and 
peculiar  sentiments,  He  no  longer  knows  his  followers  "after 
the  flesh ; "  he  sees  in  them  those  whom  his  Father  has  given 
him — those  whom  God  so  loved,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten 
Son  for  them — the  objects  of  an  eternal  and  paternal  council  of 
mercy — beings,  who,  notwithstanding  the  sin  which  still  cleaves 
to  them,  carry  in  their  bosoms  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
in  it  the  seed  of  God ;  and  still  joaore  than  all  this  does  he  be- 
hold in  them.  They  are  to  him  the  spiritual  bride,  clothed 
with  the  sun;  for  they  stand  before  him  arrayed  in  the  royal 
robe  of  his  righteousness;  and  ravished  at  the  wondrous  bril- 
liance of  his  own  glory,  winch  he  beholds  reflected  in  them,  he 
lovingly  inclines  toward  them,  and  washes  their  feet!  0  great 
and  significant  symbol!  0  powerful  exposition  of  the  words 
"I  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister!"  0  im- 
portant testimony  to  that  which  is  of  value  in  his  kingdom,  and 
to  that  which  is  not !  0  impressive  condemnation  of  all  selfish- 
ness and  self-exaltation  in  the  children  of  men!  0  deeply  af- 
fecting commendation  of  humility  and  self-denial,  as  the  charac- 
teristics of  his  children,  and  amiable  and  ennobling  instance  of 
that  love,  which  ought  to  animate  us!  And  how  much  more 
than  all  this  is  there  not  comprised  in  this  act  of  our  Lord's? 
It  testifies  of  the  sweetest,  most  glorious,  and  most  exalted  things 
in  store  for  us,  as  will  now  be  exposed  to  our  view. 

The  disciples  continue  motionless  and  lost  in  mute  astonish- 
ment. Are  they  embarrassed,  affected,  or  ashamed?  All  these 
feelings  are  mingeld  in  them  into  one.  If  any  tiring  of  an  inimi- 
cal nature  still  rankled  in  their  breasts  against  their  Divine 
Master,  every  trace  of  it  now  disappears.  Had  any  mistrust 
of  him  arisen  within  them,  it  is  now  wholly  erased,  and,  as  it 
were,  washed  away  from  their  souls.  Every  discordant  sound 
with  them  dissolves  into  harmony.  And  how  are  they  now 
ashamed  of  ever  having  striven  among  themselves  as  to  who 
should  be  the  greatest !  They  could  almost  bury  themselves  in 
the  earth  for  confusion  and  regret.     How  humbled  do  they  feel 


38  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

and  what  tenderness  and  love  pervade  their  hearts!  With 
feelings  of  blissful  astonishment,  they  suffer  their  Lord  to  act  as  he 
pleases  with  them. 

The  work  of  unheard-of  condescension  proceeds  in  silence, 
until  the  turn  comes  to  Simon  Peter.  Here,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, resistance  is  offered  and  a  stand  is  made.  When  the 
Master  approaches  him,  his  face  flushes  with  a  fiery  excitement 
He  hastily  draws  back  his  feet,  and,  as  on  a  former  occa- 
sion, he  exclaimed,  "Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man, 
0  Lord!"  so  now  he  cries  out  in  the  violence  of  his  feel- 
ings, and  almost  in  a  reproaching  and  accusing  tone,  "Lord, 
dost  Thou  wash  my  feet?"  As  if  he  had  said,  "jSFo;  I  can 
never  permit  that!"  How  entirely  does  this  correspond  with 
Simon's  character!  In  one  point  of  view,  his  refusal  seems 
to  have  nothing  culpable  in  it.  He  can  not  comprehend  how 
any  thing  so  unseemly  should  take  place.  The  glory  of  the  Lord 
and  the  worthlessness  of  the  creature  contrast  too  strongly.  How 
deeply  does  Peter  abase  himself  in  this  expression  of  his  feelings, 
and  how  highly  does  he  elevate  his  Lord  and  Master !  "  Thou, 
the  Holy  One,"  is  the  language  of  his  heart — "  I,  a  worm  of  the 
dust !    It  can  not  be." 

But  however  commendable  may  have  been  such  a  feeling  in 
Simon's  soul,  it  was  nevertheless,  in  other  respects,  culpable  and 
improper.  He  ought  to  have  remembered  his  Master's  own 
words :  "  I  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister." 
It  is  his  peculiar  office  to  cleanse  the  polluted  and  to  purify  the 
unclean.  What  would  have  become  of  us  had  he  not  conde- 
scended to  the  depth  of  that  depravity  in  which  he  found  us  ? 
Simon  thought  it  would  be  more  befitting  for  him  to  wash  his 
Master's  feet.  Yes,  do  not  cease  to  wash  them  with  peniten- 
tial tears;  but  in  other  respects  let  him  wash  and  cleanse 
thee,  otherwise  how  wilt  thou  escape  eternal  perdition?  But 
Simon  does  not  understand  his  Lord,  and  has  no  idea  of  his 
error.  Jesus,  therefore,  replies  to  him  in  the  well-known 
words,  "  What  I  do,  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know 
hereafter." 

But  will  not  this  remark  of  our  Lord's  induce  Simon  to  resign 
himself  wholly  to  him?      On  the   contrary,    Simon  thinks  he 


CHEIST   WASHING   HIS   DISCIPLES'   FEET.  39 

ought  to  preserve  his  Master's  dignity,  and  therefore  exclaims, 
in  a  very  decided  tone,  "  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet !" 
Simon,  however,  forgot  that  obedience  is  better  than  sacrifice. 
Even  to  this  day,  we  hear  it  not  unfrequently  said,  "For  the 
honor  of  Christ,  I  can  not  believe  that  he  receives  sinners,  as 
such,  without  any  thing  further."  0,  my  friends,  if  you  wish  to 
honor  Jesus,  do  so  by  submitting  to  his  word  1  He  says,  "  I 
am  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  is  lost."  "  No,"  you 
reply,  u  I  can  not  imagine  that  his  Divine  Majesty  will  trouble 
himself  about  the  prayers  of  such  a  worm  as  I !  O  unreasonable 
zeal  for  the  divine  dignity  1  It  is  the  will  of  God  that  we  should 
glorify  him  in  this  very  particular,  that  we  believe  him  to  be  the 
hearer  of  prayer. 

u  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet !"  said  the  mistaken  dis- 
ciple. But  listen  to  the  Saviour's  reply,  "  If  I  wash  thee  not, 
thou  hast  no  part  with  me."  What  an  important  declaration  is 
this !  0  that  I  could  indelibly  inscribe  it  on  the  hearts  of  my 
readers!  You  perceive  how  the  more  profound  and  mystic 
meaning  of  our  Lord's  act  shines  forth  in  these  words — namely, 
as  having  reference  to  the  blood  of  atonement,  to  forgiveness, 
justification,  and  purification  from  sin.  You  know  how  much 
lies  concealed  in  this  passage,  and  how  every  syllable  has  its 
profound  signification.  "If  /  wash  thee  not."  Yes,  Thou, 
Lord  Jesus,  must  do  it ;  for  who  ever  purified  himself  from  sin  ? 
"  If  I  do  not  wash  thee."  Yes,  Thou  must  wash  us ;  for  teach- 
ing, instructing,  and  setting  us  an  example,  is  not  sufficient. 
"  If  I  wash  thee  not."  Certainly,  what  does  it  avail  me,  if  Peter 
or  Paul  is  cleansed,  and  I  remain  defiled  ?  I  must  be  forgiven, 
and  feel  that  I  am  absolved ;  and  it  remains  eternally  true,  that  he 
who  is  not  washed  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  has  no  part  with  him, 
nor  in  the  blessings  of  his  kingdom. 

It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  our  Lord's  words  excited  in 
Simon  a  degree  of  astonishment  he  had  never  before  experi- 
enced ;  and  the  idea  of  having  no  part  with  Jesus,  the  supreme 
God,  humbles  him  unspeakably.  Resigning  himself,  therefore, 
without  reserve,  while  guessing  the  profounder  meaning  of  his 
Master's  expression,  he  says,  "  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  also 
my  hands  and  my  head." — that  is,   the  whole  man.     When 


40  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

Jesus  makes  it  appear  that  he  is  about  to  depart  from  us,  it 
then  becomes  evident  how  closely  and  deeply  we  are  connected 
with  him,  though  for  a  time  he  may  have  been  forgotten  by  us 
in  the  bustle  of  daily  life.  When  it  would  seem  that  he  is  will- 
ing to  leave  us  to  walk  again  in  our  own  ways,  it  becomes  mani- 
fest how  valueless  is  all  beside  compared  with  him.  The  anx- 
ious doubt,  whether  we  have  any  feeling  for  him,  disappears, 
and  the  "bond  of  perfectness,"  which  inseparably  binds  us  to 
him  in  our  inmost  being,  is  again  brought  to  light,  and  we  feel, 
with  renewed  vitality  and  force,  how  suddenly  the  curse,  death, 
hell,  and  Satan,  would  again  break  in  upon  us,  were  we  no 
longer  permitted  to  trust  and  hope  in  him.  And  how  delight- 
ful it  is,  in  the  way  of  experience,  thus  to  become  again  con- 
scious of  our  connection  with  Jesus!  How  beneficial  also  may 
this  be  to  us,  when  the  feeling  subsides,  and  the  danger  of  mis- 
taking our  path  again  presents  itself?  Experience  of  this  kind 
then  gives  "  songs  in  the  night,"  and  encourages  us-  in  a  time  of 
darkness,  even  as  King  David  was  cheered  by  the  remembrance 
of  his  former  hymns  of  praise. 

"  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  hands  and  my  head." 
Excellent,  but  again  not  altogether  correct.  Simon  now  over- 
steps the  line  to  the  right,  as  he  had  before  transgressed  to  the 
left.  He  had  previously  rejected  that  which  was  indispensable ; 
he  now  requires  what  is  superfluous.  He  does  not  yet  compre- 
hend the  whole  of  the  matter  clearly ;  and  probably  the  follow- 
ing words  of  our  Lord  belonged  also  to  those,  the  full  meaning 
of  which  became  evident  to  him  only  in  the  sequel ;  "  He  that 
is  washed  need  not  save  to  wash  his  feet,  and  is  clean  every 
whit,  and  ye  are  clean,  but  not  all."  It  is  clear  that  the  last 
words  have  reference  to  the  traitor.  But  what  is  the  meaning 
of  this  mysterious  speech  ?  I  believe  it  to  be  as  follows :  he  is 
washed,  who,  as  a  poor  sinner,  enters  by  faith  into  fellowship 
with  Jesus.  Such  a  one  is  then  purified  from  sin,  in  conse- 
quence of  being  justified .  by  grace.  The  blood  of  the  Lamb  was 
shed  for  him.  The  payment  of  all  his  debts  was  made.  He  is 
clean  in  the  sight  of  God,  for  the  merits  of  the  Surety  are  im- 
puted to  him,  and  he  continues  to  be  thus  regarded ;  for  "  the 
gifts  and  calling  of  God  are  without  repentance."     He  ought 


CHRIST   WASniXG   HIS   DISCIPLES'   FEET.  41 

daily  and  hourly  to  rejoice  in  this  his  purified  state.  Peter,  in 
his  second  Epistle,  admonishes  us  not  to  forget  that  we  are 
"  cleansed  from  our  old  sins."  .  But  the  individual  is  also  pure 
as  regards  his  sanctification;  since,  in  consequence  of  being 
born  again  of  water  and  the  Spirit,  he  has  forever  renounced 
all  that  is  sinful,  and  by  reason  of  his  new  nature,  though  still 
assaulted  and  tempted  in  various  ways  by  the  flesh,  he  desires 
that  the  will  of  God  may  be  accomplished  in  him,  and  that  what- 
soever he  does  may  be  well-pleasing  in  his  sight. 

But  what  is  wont  to  happen  in  the  progress  of  the  life  of 
faith?  Unguarded  moments  occur,  in  which  the  man  again 
sins  in  one  way  or  other.  He  incautiously  thinks,  speaks,  or 
does  that  which  is  improper,  and  is  again  guilty  of  unfaithful- 
ness, although  against  his  will ;  for  only  the  devil  and  his  seed  sin 
wilfully ;  while  he  that  is  born  of  God,  saith  the  apostle,  can  not 
sin.  The  man's  walk  is  polluted  ;  his  feet,  with  which  he  comes 
in  contact  with  the  earth,  are  denied.  What  is  now  to  be  done  ? 
Two  by-paths  present  themselves,  and  not  unfrequently  one  of 
them  is  taken.  The  individual  either  gives  himself  up  to  an  ex- 
cessive feeling  of  his  guilt ;  openly  cries  out,  "  Unclean,  unclean !" 
like  one  who  is  excluded  from  the  fellowship  of  the  pure ;  regards 
himself  as  fallen  from  grace ;  considers  the  bond  of  union  with  the 
Lord  as  rent  asunder,  and  cries  out  with  Peter,  "  Lord,  not  my 
feet  only,  but  also  my  hands  and  my  head !"  Or  else  the  man 
takes  his  transgressions  too  easily;  persuades  himself  that  the 
faults  he  has  committed  are  of  no  importance ;  soothes  his  con- 
science with  the  rash  and  vain  idea  that  the  iniquity  belongs 
to  the  multitude  of  sins  which  have  been  atoned  for  and  annihi- 
lated by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  thus  unconcernedly  proceeds 
on  his  way. 

In  each  of  these  cases  there  is  a  deviation,  the  one  to  the 
right,  and  the  other  to  the  left  of  the  line  of  truth.  In  the  form- 
er, the  man  gives  way  unnecessarily  to  an  excessive  id^a  of 
the  fault  he  has  committed,  and  ascribes  to  it  an  influence  over 
his  entire  state  of  grace,  which  according  to  the  word  of  God  it 
does  not  exercise.  The  individual  transgressions  which  a  Chris- 
tian may  be  induced  to  commit,  are  by  no  means  to  be  compared 
to  an  apostacy  from  Christ.     In  the  single  advantages  which  the 


42  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

flesh  gains  over  the  spirit,  the  regeneration  which  has  been 
experienced  is  no  more  lost  than  divine  grace  is  withdrawn,  or 
its  superintendence  and  protection  discontinued  because  of  the 
transgression.  In  the  other  case,  the  sin  committed  is  too 
lightly  esteemed ;  and  by  an  arbitrary  act  of  the  understanding, 
the  man  forgives  himself,  instead  of  letting  himself  be  forgiven. 
But  the  little  faults,  as  they  are  termed,  are  not  thereby  ren- 
dered less ;  and  so  far  from  being  erased  from  the  conscience,  in 
consequence  of  our  persuading  ourselves  that  they  belong  to  the 
multitude  of  those  for  which  the  atoning  blood  was  shed,  they 
remain  in  it,  on  the  contrary,  as  a  secret  evil  which  gnaws  the 
peace  of  our  hearts  like  a  cancer,  and  gradually  robs  us  of  filial 
boldness  in  our  approaches  to  the  throne  of  grace. 

What,  then,  ought  to  be  our  conduct,  according  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, in  situations  like  the  foregoing?  First,  beware  of  despond- 
ency, by  which  we  only  prepare  a  feast  for  Satan.  Next, 
withdraw  not  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  as  if  his  heart  were 
closed  against  us.  Thirdly,  think  not  that  it  is  necessary  to 
make  a  fresh  beginning  of  a  religious  life.  The  seed  of  the  new 
birth  remains  within  us ;  and  the  child  of  the  family  of  God  is 
not  suddenly  turned  out  of  doors,  like  a  servant  or  a  stranger. 
"  He  that  is  washed,"  says  our  Lord,  "  is  clean  every  whit ;  and 
ye  are  clean,  but  not  all."  Who  does  not  now  understand  this 
speech?  Its  meaning  is,  he  that  is  become  a  partaker  of  the 
blood  of  sprinkling  and  of  the  baptism  of  the  Spirit — that  is,  of 
the  twofold  grace  of  absolution  from  the  guilt  of  sin,  and  of  re- 
generation to  newness  of  life, — is,  as  regards  the  inmost  germ  of 
his  being,  a  thoroughly  new  man,  who  has  eternally  renounced  sin, 
and  whose  inmost  love,  desire,  and  intention  is  directed  to  God 
and  things  divine.  When  such  a  one,  from  weakness,  is  overtaken 
by  a  fault,  he  has  no  need  of  an  entirely  new  transformation,  but 
only  of  a  cleansing.  He  must  let  his  feet  be  washed.  Let  this  be 
duly  considered  by  those  who  are  in  a  state  of  grace,  and  let  them 
resist  the  infernal  accuser,  lest  he  gain  an  advantage  over  them  by 
his  boundless  accusations.  Hold  up  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  as  a 
shield  against  him,  and  do  not  suffer  your  courage  and  confidence 
to  be  shaken. 

The   other  danger  which  menaces  us  here,  must   be   equally 


CHRIST   WASHING    HIS   DISCIPLES1    FEET.  43 

cautiously  avoid  jd;  and  we  must  beware  of  cloaking  or  under- 
estimating any  new  act  of  unfaithfulness  we  may  have  com- 
mitted. No  fajlt  is  too  trifling  or  inconsiderable.  We  must 
suffer  the  judge  in  our  breasts  to  perform  his  office  without  liin- 
derance,  and  not  refuse  to  listen  to  his  convictions.  We  must 
draw  near  to  God  as  grieved,  but  not  as  despairing  children,  and 
sincerely  confess  our  faults.  Let  our  language  be,  "  0  Lord, 
my  God,  I  have  sinned  against  Thee  afresh,  and  am  grieved  at 
it.  I  judge  and  condemn  myself;  but  Thy  mercy  is  great,  and 
therein  do  I  trust.  Sprinkle  my  conscience  with  the  blood  of 
atonement,  and  enable  me,  by  faith,  to  appropriate,  for  this  my 
fault,  the  suffering  Thou  hast  endured  for  me!"  Let  the  hum- 
bled and  contrite  heart  pray  thus,  and  the  Lord  will  graciously 
incline  to  it,  and  impart  forgiveness  to  the  soul  by  his  Holy 
Spirit,  and  the  peace  of  the  heart  with  the  consciousness  of 
adoption  will  then  remain  undisturbed  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb.  And  0,  how  do  we  feel  ourselves  again  united  to  the 
Lord,  and  strengthened  anew  to  fight  against  Satan,  the  world, 
and  our  own  flesh  and  blood;  and  how  does  the  joyful  confi- 
dence bloom  afresh  in  our  minds,  that  we  really  possess  a 
Saviour,  after  such  a  renewed  experience  of  his  faithfulness ! 
Then  we  arrive  again  at  Penuel,  and  exultingly  say  with  Jacob,  "  I 
have  seen  the  Lord  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved ;"  and 
join,  with  deep  emotion,  in  the  words  of  David,  "Return  unto  thy 
rest,  0  my  soul!  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee!" 

This,  my  dear  readers,  is  letting  our  feet  be  washed,  in  the 
sense  intended  by  our  Lord ;  and  you  will  observe  how  blissful, 
refreshing,  and  reviving  is  the  act.  And  in  the  eyes  of  him  who 
is  possessed  of  true  simplicity,  this  daily  renewed  repentance, 
and  the  fresh  experience  of  salvation  winch  attends  it,  is  nothing 
legal,  but  the  real  Gospel,  and  an  exercise  which  is  unspeakably 
sweet.  The  inward  man  is  thus  renewed  day  by  day,  and  efll 
periences  a  continued  restoration.  The  flowers  of  joy  and  devot- 
edness  to  God  incessantly  spring  up  in  the  heart,  and  it  is  always 
spring  time  within.  There  are  many  Christians  who  know  of 
no  other  nourishment  for  their  inward  life  than  the  moldy 
bread  of  long  past  experience.  But  no  true  peace  results  from 
this.     Inward  religion  does  not  consist  in  a  life  of  morbid  secur- 


44  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

ity,  arising  from  the  recollection  of  having  once  received  the 
forgiveness  of  sins.  Where  a  real  spiritual  life  exists,  there  is 
also  constant  activity,  unceasing  striving  against  sin,  repeated 
humiliation  before  God,  and  renewed  experience  of  his  favor. 
Were  it  otherwise,  why  should  the  Lord  put  into  his  children's 
lips  the  daily  petition,  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses  I"  He  that  is 
washed  need  not  be  again  entirely  washed,  but  only  his  feet,  and 
that  continually. 

The  inmost  meaning  of  the  scene  under  consideration  has  thus 
been  unfolded  before  us.  It  belongs  to  the  method  of  salvation, 
and  as  regards  its  whole  extent,  was  certainly  apprehended  only 
in  the  sequel  by  the  understandings  of  the  disciples.  That  which 
they  doubtless  understood  better,  and  at  the  time,  was  the  exterior 
of  the  act,  and  the  example  it  afforded.  To  this  our  Lord's  clos- 
ing explanation  is  limited,  to  which  we  have  now  in  conclusion, 
to  direct  our  attention. 

After  the  Lord  had  resumed  his  upper  garments,  and  re-seated 
himself  at  the  table  with  his  disciples,  he  again  opens  his  gracious 
mouth  and  says  to  them,  "  Know  ye  what  I  have  done  to  you  ?" 
By  this  question  he  refers  once  more  to  the  profounder  meaning 
of  his  action,  which  he  had  brought  sufficiently  near  to  the  com- 
prehension of  his  disciples  by  the  remapk,  "now  are  ye  clean, 
but  not  all."  At  these  words  every  doubt  must  have  vanished 
as  to  the  spiritual  cleansing  here  alluded  to.  But  the  Lord  pre- 
pared the  way  by  them  to  what  followed :  "  Ye  call  me  Master 
and  Lord,"  continues  he,  and  adds,  in  majestic  self-consciousness, 
"  Ye  say  well,  for  so  I  am."  He  then  says  further,  "  If  I  then, 
your  Lord  and  Master,  have  washed  your  feet :  ye  also  ought  to 
wash  one  another's  feet.  For  I  have  given  you  an  example  that 
ye  should  do  as  I  have  done  to  you.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
ou,  the  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  Lord,  neither  he  that  is 

nt,  greater  than  he  that  sent  him.  If  ye  know  these  tilings, 
happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

In  these  words,  that  part  of  Christ's  act  which  is  intended  as  an 
example,  is  set  before  us.  The  original  word,  translated  in  our 
version  "  example,"  includes  in  it  the  twofold  idea  of  symbol  as 
well  as  example,  and  therefore  points  out  to  us  a  deeper  meaning 
than  appears  on  the  surface.     It  will  be  known  to  you  that  many 


CUEIST   WASHING   IIIS   DISCIPLES'   FEET.  45 

have  supposed  our  Lord  here  intended  to  institute  an  outward 
ecclesiastical  solemnity  for  his  Church.  But  there  is  not  the 
slightest  foundation  for  such  an  idea ;  nor  is  the  Lord  to  blame 
that  the  washing  enjoined  by  him,  has  in  some  places  degenerated 
into  the  mere  formality  of  an  outward  act.  In  it  he  recom- 
mended no  empty  ceremonial,  much  less  a  cloak  for  hierarchical 
pride,  to  which  those  make  it  subservient,  of  whom  it  has  been 
justly  observed,  that  "it  would  be  more  to  be  wondered  at,  if,  in 
genuine  humility,  they  washed  the  feet  of  one  king,  than  their 
washing  the  feet  of  a  thousand  poor  people  in  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  now  performed." 

The  Lord,  by  this  act,  commended  to  his  disciples  that  brotherly 
love  which  flows  from  his  own  heart  into  ours,  which  manifests 
itself  in  real  self-denial,  and  willingly  condescends  to  the  most 
menial  offices.  We  ought  also  to  wash  one  another's  feet,  even 
in  a  literal  sense,  when  necessity  and  circumstances  require  it. 
We  ought  not  to  imagine  ourselves  too  high  and  lofty  for  any 
kind  of  assistance,  however  apparently  degrading,  since  Christ 
has  left  us  such  a  brilliant  example  in  this  respect.  Acts  of  love 
never  degrade,  however  menial  they  may  be.  They  did  not  de- 
grade the  Lord  of  Glory ;  how,  then,  should  they  degrade  us  his 
unworthy  servants? 

But  it  is  chiefly  in  a  spiritual  sense  that  we  ought  to  follow 
the  example  of  our  Lord.  We  are  naturally  much  inclined  to 
accuse  each  other  of  faults,  and  we  judge  and  grieve  each 
other  by  our  severity.  But  the  Lord  recommends  a  washing  of 
the  feet,  which  arises  from  the  charitable  intention  of  cleansing 
and  divesting  our  brother  of  some  besetting  sin.  This  can  not 
indeed  be  done  without  mentioning  the  particular  offense;  but 
there  is  a  great  difference  where  humility,  which  never  judges 
others  without  first  judging  itself,  shows  another  his  sins,  and 
mercy,  which  never  grieves,  but  only  seeks  to  heal,  discovers 
infirmities,  when  contrasted  with  the  self-righteous  loftiness  and 
fault-finding  Pharisaism,  which  holds  up  to  the  poor  sinner  the 
catalogue  of  his  transgressions.  He  who  washes  a  brother's 
feet  in  the  sense  intended  by  our  Lord,  places  himself  on  the 
same  footing  with  him  as  a  sinner ;  enters  compassionately  into 
his  fault;   reveals  it  to  him  with  forbearance  and  undissembled 


46  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

frankness;  melts  his  heart,  by  gently  reminding  him  of  the 
riches  of  divine  goodness,  which  he  has  repaid  with  ingratitude ; 
and  after  having  thus  washed  his  feet,  while  inciting  him  to 
repentance,  he  does  not  forget  to  wipe  them  also,  by  unvailing 
the  throne  of  grace,  depicting  to  his  view  the  cross  of  Calvary, 
announcing  to  Mm  the  mercy  of  him  who  has  received  gifts, 
even  for  the  rebellious,  and  by  dropping  into  his  wounds  the  balm 
of  the  G-ospel. 

Certainly  we  never  wash  each  other's  feet  in  this  manner 
antil  we  know  what  the  Lord  has  done  for  us  in  particular. 
The  mystery  of  his  cross  must  first  have  been  revealed  to  us  in 
the  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ere  we  are  able  thus  to  wash  one 
another's  feet.  We  must  first  have  experienced  that  in  the  sub- 
stantial antitype,  which  Simon  Peter  experienced  in  the  type. 
Christ  himself  must  first  wash  us  before  we  can  wash  the  feet 
of  any  in  the  manner  intended  by  him.  Let  the  words,  then, 
ever  sound  in  our  ears:  "If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou  hast  no  part  with 
me."  May  they  expel  all  false  security  from  our  souls ;  give  us 
no  rest  day  or  night  until  they  cast  us  down  at  his  footstool,  and 
if  he  has  not  yet  cleansed  us,  call  forth  from  our  bosoms  the  words 
of  Peter :  "  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  hands  and  my 
head !" 


V. 
THE    PASSOVER. 

The  passover  is  just  being  celebrated — the  most  important^ 
glorious,  and  joyful  of  the  festivals  of  Israel ;  the  birthday-feast 
of  the  chosen  people — that  festival  which  has  been  kept  for 
fifteen  hundred  years,  and  annually  greeted  with  fresh  delight ; 
upholding,  by  its  mere  occurrence,  the  historical  truth  of  the 
wonderful  deliverance  of  Abraham's  seed  from  the  sword  of  the 
destroying  angel,  by  the  sprinkled  blood  of  lambs.  As  the 
festive  memorial  of  this  great  event,  it  continually  called  for 
renewed  thanksgiving   and    humiliation    before   the  Father    of 


THE   PASSOVER.  47 

Mercies.  With  the  necessity  for  spiritua  deliverance,  it  equally 
revived  the  hope  of  redemption  by  the  Hood  of  the  promised 
Prince  of  Peace,  of  which  the  deliverance  experienced  in  Egypt 
was  a  mere  type. 

Let  us  then  cast  a  transient  look  at  the  typical  feast  itself. 
The  angel  of  divine  justice  had  been  sent  from  the  throne  of  the 
Eternal  Majesty  to  smite  all  the  first-born  in  Egypt,  and  to 
sweep  them  away  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  To  the  seed  of 
Abraham,  however,  a  means  of  deliverance  was  given,  and  you 
know  wherein  it  consisted.  Each  head  of  a  family  was  ordered 
to  take  a  male  lamb  out  of  his  flock,  kill  it,  sprinkle  its  blood  on 
his  door-posts,  and  then  quietly  and  confidently  remain  in  his 
dwelling.  "And  the  blood,"  said  the  Lord,  "  shall  be  to  you  for  a 
token  upon  the  houses  where  you  are ;  and  when  I  see  the  blood, 
I  will  pass  over  you,  and  the  plague  shall  not  be  upon  you  to  de- 
stroy you,  when  I  smite  the  land  of  Egypt." — Exod.  xii.  13.  And 
it  was  done  as  the  Lord  commanded. 

Who  does  not  perceive  in  this  divine  ordinance  the  symbolic 
announcement  of  the  eternal  redemption  projected  for  sinners  in 
the  counsels  of  G-od?  Who  still  doubts  that  the  Lamb,  on 
winch  the  deliverance  depended,  signified  Christ,  the  only 
Saviour — that  the  slaying  of  the  lamb  had  reference  to 
Christ's  atoning  sufferings  and  death  for  sinners — that  the 
sprinkling  of  the  door-posts  with  the  blood  of  the  victims,  fore- 
shadowed to  the  believing  sinner,  the  divine  imputation  of  the 
merits  of  the  great  Surety,  and  that  the  security  of  the  Israelites 
who,  in  child-like  simplicity  obeyed  the  divine  command, 
reflected  the  perfect  forgiveness  which  the  Eternal  Father  would 
gratuitously  grant  to  all  who  should  humbly  submit  to  his  method 
of  salvation,  by  repentance  and  faith  in  the  atoning  blood  of  the 
Lamb  of  G-od  ? 

"  This  great  symbolical  announcement  of  salvation  was  handed 
down  through  successive  ages ;  and  the  wondrous  deliverance  in 
Egypt  was  annually  brought  to  the  reoollection  of  the  people  in 
a  lively  manner,  by  the  Feast  of  the  Passover.  They  then  beheld 
the  lambs — those  significant  types  of  the  expected  Lamb  of  G-od 
— led  to  the  slaughter,  and  at  the  sight  of  their  streaming  blood, 
the  thanksgivings  of  the  people  were  renewed  for  the  deliverance 


48  THE    OUTER   COURT. 

wrought  for  their  forefathers  in  Egypt,  as  well  as  the  joyful  hope 
of  that  spiritual  deliverance  for  which  they  waited.  In  this  hope 
they  encouraged  themselves,  and  exclaimed,  with  increasing  confi- 
dence, "  He  who  shall  bear  our  sins,  will  come  without  fail,  for 
we  have  here  the  seal  and  pledge  of  the  faithful  and  true  God." 
And  while  consuming  the  paschal  lamb  in  the  social  family  circle, 
after  the  observance  of  the  sacrificial  rites,  they  rejoiced  to  find 
another  divine  idea  in  this  unpretending  outward  act,  namely, 
that  a  faithful  appropriation  and  reception  of  that  which  God 
would  impart  to  sinners  in  the  blood  of  Christ  should  form  the 
only  condition  attached  to  a  participation  in  the  boundless  treas- 
ures of  grace  and  eternal  salvation. 

My  readers,  we  have  now  arrived  at  the  moment  in  which 
Christ  connected  the  institution  of  his  sacred  Supper  with  the 
Passover.  The  word  "connected,"  however,  does  not  suffi- 
ciently convey  our  meaning.  We  designate  the  matter  more 
correctly  when  we  say  that  Christ  has  exalted  the  Mosaic 
festival  of  the  Passover  or  deliverance,  by  changing  it  into  his 
Sacrament.  It  is  erroneous  to  suppose  that  the  Old  Testament 
is  abrogated  or  put  aside  by  the  New.  For  in  reality,  not  the 
minutest  part  "of  the  Mosaic  rites  and  ceremonies  is  abrogated ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  whole  is  exalted  from  the  state  of  type  and 
shadow  to  that  which  is  real  and  substantial.  This  is  the 
meaning  of  that  saying  of  Christ's — "  Think  not  that  I  am  come 
to  destroy  the  law  and  the  prophets;  I  am  not  come  to  de- 
stroy, but  to  fulfill.  For  verily  I  say  unto  you,  till  heaven 
and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall  in  no  wise  pass  from 
the  law  till  all  be  fulfilled."— Matt.  v.  17,  18.  Even  as  the 
blossom  on  the  tree  is  not  annihilated,  but,  fading,  passes  over 
into  the  fruit,  and  experiences  in  the  latter  a  more  substantial 
life,  so  all  the  types  and  shadows  of  the  Old  Testament  were 
divinely  ordained  to  be  realized  in  the  New.  The  Old  Testa- 
ment figure  of  the  priesthood,  for  instance,  received  its  fulfillment 
in  Christ,  as  well  as  the  atoning  sacrifices  of  the  tabernacle  and 
temple,  which  were  types  of  his  sufferings  and  death ;  while  the 
whole  of  the  Levitical  ritual,  with  reference  to  purging,  washing, 
and  purifying,  formed  its  substantial  antitype  in  the  spiritual  puri- 
fication by  the  word,  blood,  and  Spirit  of  Christ. 


THE   PASSOVER.  49 

This  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  ought  greatly  to  strengthen  our 
faith.  The  whole  of  Christ's  work  of  redemption  thus  appears 
in  all  its  parts  only  as  the  vital  fulfillment  and  realization  of 
a  cycle  of  types  and  figures,  presented  for  upward  of  a  thousand 
.  to  the  eyes  of  the  people  of  Israel  and  of  the  whole  world. 
Can  this  be  mere  chance,  or  only  the  contrivance  of  human  fore- 
thought and  calculation  ?  Impossible !  Here  we  see  the  over- 
ruling hand  of  the  living  and  true  God.  Here  is  his  plan,  his  work, 
lus  performance.  He  that  doubts  of  this,  doubts  of  the  existence 
of  the  sun  at  noon-day.  It  is  only  in  nature  that  we  meet  with 
God  under  a  vail,  while  in  the  connection  of  his  revelation,  all 
vails  and  coverings  are  removed.  Only  seclude  yourselves,  for 
a  time,  for  the  purpose  of  biblical  study,  and  send  up  repeated 
and  heartfelt  aspirations  for  divine  enlightenment,  and  you  will 
unceasingly  observe  infallible  traces  of  Jehovah,  and  there  will  be 
no  end  to  the  discoveries  you  will  make  of  all  that  is  wonderful 
and  glorious. 

Now,  as  the  deliverance  in  Egypt  found  in  Christ's  atoning 
sacrifice  its  fulfilled  and  substantial  antitype,  so  likewise  did  the 
divinely-ordained  Passover  in  the  Lord's  Supper.  Come,  there- 
fore, and  see !  The  table  at  Jerusalem  is  prepared ;  and  all  that 
the  feast  requires  is  served  up.  The  mysterious  act  of  the  wash- 
ing the  disciples'  feet  has  just  been  concluded,  the  bread  may  now 
be  broken  and  the  food  enjoyed.  The  disciples  are  deeply  affected. 
The  ^Master,  who  was  made  like  unto  his  brethren  in  all  things, 
sin  excepted,  and  in  whose  bosom  beat  a  human  heart,  which 
deeply  sympathized  with  the  poor  children  of  Adam,  is  so  no  less. 
He  sees  before  him  the  paschal  lamb,  and  in  it  the  type  of  himself. 
He  is  "  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world," 
even  as  he  had  caused  himself  to  be  announced  by  his  forerunner, 
John,  at  the  commencement  of  his  course.  As  a  fresh  testimony 
that  he  was  so,  he  had  made  his  'entry  into  the  Holy  City  on  the 
same  day  on  which  the  paschal  lambs  were  wont  to  be  brought  in 
for  the  slaughter. 

After  they  had  again  sat  down  at  the  festive  board,  Jesus 
begins,  in  tones  of  heartfelt  tenderness,  to  say  to  his  disciples, 
u  With  desire  have  I  desired  to  eat  this  passover  with  you  before 
I  suffer."     0,  observe  what  a  glimpse  he  here  gives  us  into  the 

3 


50  THE    OUTER    COURT. 

sanctuary  of  his  inmost  soul !  He  has  heartily  desired  to  keep 
this  feast  with  them.  But  for  what  reason?  It  doubtless 
appeared  sweet  and  pleasant  to  him  to  pass  the  last  hours  of  a 
life  devoted  to  the  service  of  others,  in* the  peaceful  circle  of 
those  who  harmonized  with  him,  and  who  were  the  germinating 
seed  of  his  Church,  away  from  the  discordant  sounds  of  unbelief 
and  the  noise  of  an  opposing  world.  It  must  also  have  been 
consolatory. to  him  to  celebrate  the  close  of  Ins  career  in  the 
bosom  of  affection,  and  in  the  society  of  his  confidential  fol- 
lowers, and  then  take*  his  leave  of  them  in  an  undisturbed  and 
peaceful  manner.  But  do  not  suppose  that,  in  what  has  pre- 
ceded, you  have  exhausted  the  causes  of  his  desire.  Beware, 
especially,  of  ascribing  to  the  Lord,  any  thing  of  that  sickly 
nature,  which  is  usually  termed  sentimentality.  As  in  him  all 
was  sound,  and  full  of  pith  and  energy,  so  he  was  also  a  perfect 
stranger  to  our  morbid  sensibility,  and  our  selfish  pleasure  in 
effeminate  and  visionary  sensations.  That  which  caused  him 
to  long  so  ardently  for  this  passover  was,  doubtless,  love ;  not, 
however,  a  love  that  seeks  enjoyment,  but  which  burns  to  do 
good,  to  beatify,  and  bless. 

Our  Saviour's  desire  to  partake  of  this  last  passover  doubtless 
arose  chiefly  from  his  heartfelt  longing  for  the  coming  of  that 
hour  in  which  he  should  be  able  to  make  an  end  of  our  state 
of  condemnation,  and  nail  to  the  cross  the  handwriting  that  was 
against  us.  He  also  cordially  rejoiced  in  anticipation  of  tins 
peaceful  evening,  as  the  point  of  time  when  he  should  be  per- 
mitted, in  his  intended  and  mysterious  institution,  to  make  hia 
will,  so  to  speak,  in  favor  of  his  beloved  followers,  and  with 
the  consent  of  his  heavenly  Father,  to  bequeath  to  them  the 
fruits  of  his  atoning  life,  sufferings,  and  death.  In  a  word,  it 
was  for  the  sake  of  the  Sacrament,  to  be  then  instituted,  that  he 
longed  so  ardently  and  earnestly  for  the  approach  of  this  his  last 
passover  feast.  Long  had  this  institution  of  Ins  love  presented 
itself,  as  an  attractive  memorial,  to  his  mind.  Hence  you  may 
judge  of  the  importance  which  ought  to  be  attached  to  this 
sacred  ordinance.  An  act  which  had  simply  reference  to  the 
establishment  of  a  returning  friendly  festive  memorial,  would 
never  have  been  to  the  Son  of  God  the  object  of  such  a  pro- 


THE   PASSOVER.  51 

found,  ardent,  and  long-cherished  desire.  The  words,  "With 
desire  have  I  desired,"  are  of  themselves  sufficient  to  refute  not 
merely  the  rationalistic,  but  also  the  otherwise  so  estimable 
Zurich  Reformer's  view  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  They  impress 
upon  the  sacred  feast  the  stamp  of  a  divine  mystery' — of  a  sacra- 
ment. 0,  my  Lord  and  Saviour,  thus  ardently  did  Thy  heart 
long  for  the  moment  when  Thou  couldst  bequeath  this  legacy 
of  Thy  loving-kindness  to  us  sinners!  Even  the  horrifying 
night  of  death,  which  was  so  soon  to  close  around  Thee,  did  not 
hinder  Thee  from  thoughts  of  such  compassion!  0.  how  hast 
Thou  loved  us  to  the  end !  And  yet  who  loves  Thee  in  return, 
and  thanks  Thee  as  he  ought  for  the  rich  inheritance  bestowed 
upon  us,  or  duly  estimates  this  gift  of  Thy  grace !  0  Lord,  how 
are  we  degenerated,  sunk,  and  lost!  Have  pity  upon  us,  0 
Jesus,  and  create  us  anew,  according  to  Thy  promise ! 

With  the  expression  of  heartfelt  desire  our  Lord  connects  one 
of  a  prophetic  nature,  and  soon  after  adds  another  of  a  similar 
character :  "  For  I  tell  you,"  says  he,  "  that  I  will  not  any  more 
eat  thereof,  until  it  be  fulfilled  in  the  kingdom  of  God."  As  if 
he  had  said,  "We  are  about  to  part;  our  connection  with  each 
other  will  be  henceforth  of  a  different  kind.  But  we  shall  see 
each  other  again,  and  once  more  sit  at  meat  together."  We 
ask  inquisitively  and  anxiously,  When?  and,  further,  inquire 
what  it  is  that  now  presents  itself  to  the  mind  of  our  Lord,  and 
elevates  him  above  the  pain  of  parting?  The  eye  of  his  spirit 
looks  into  the  distant  future.  He  says,  "  I  will  not  any  m?re 
eat  thereof  until  it  be  fulfilled  (the  passover)  in  the  kingdom  of 
God."  The  Lord  knows  what  he  is  saying,  and  rejoicing  in 
spirit,  sees  what  he  refers  to  clearly  and  distinctly  before  him. 
We  only  perceive  something  of  it  in  the  dawning  distance; 
but  even  this  is  sufficient  to  cast  a  reflection  of  the  Saviour's  joy 
into  our  hearts. 

The  Passover  of  the  Old  Testament,  after  its  transformation 
into  the  Lord's  Supper,  has  not  yet  experienced  its  final  fulfill- 
ment. It  points  prophetically  to  something  further,  and  even 
greater  and  more  glorious.  A  feast  of  the  reconciled  and 
redeemed  is  yet  forthcoming,  with  which  our  present  Com- 
munion stands  in  proportion  only  like  the  copy  to  the.  original, 


52  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

or  like  the  foretaste  to  the  full  enjoyment.  When  this  feast 
shall  be  celebrated,  Faith  will  have  become  Sight,  that  which  is 
in  part  have  become  that  which  is  perfect,  and  strife  and  con- 
flict have  terminated  in  enduring  triumph.  Tins  high  festival, 
which  shall  nevermore  be  interrupted,  will  be  held  at  the 
moment  when  the  kingdom  of  God  shall  be  accomplished  and 
completed,  and  with  the  renewal  of  Nature.  Something  new 
will  then  take  the  place  of  our  present  Communion.  Ask  me 
not  wherein  it  will  consist.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  our 
Lord,  in  the  words,  "I  will  not  any  more  eat  this  passover  with 
you,  until  it  be  fulfilled,"  does  not  merely  intend  to  say,  "till 
we  shall  rejoice  together  in  the  perfect  glory  of  my  kingdom, 
with  all  the  redeemed."  We  are  not, entitled  thus  generally  to 
explain  his  language.  The  mode  of  expression  he  makes  use  of, 
does  not  even  admit  of  this  reference  to  something  indefinitely 
spiritual;. and  the  addition,  which  the  Lord  afterward  makes,  is 
quite  at  variance  with  it. 

It  belonged  to  the  ritual  of  the  Passover,  that  in  it,  four  cups 
should  be  handed  round,  having  reference  to  the  four  promises 
in  the  divine  announcement  of  the  miraculous  deliverance  in 
Egypt,  viz.:  "I,  Jehovah,  will  bring  you  out,  deliver,  redeem, 
and  take  you  to  be  my  people,  and  will  be  your  God."  After 
presenting  one  of  these  cups,  during  the  social  meal  at  Jerusalem, 
probably  the  first  of  the  four,  which  must  not  be  confounded 
with  the  cup  after  supper,  mentioned  in  Luke  xxii.,  20,  the  Lord 
thus  expresses  himself,  "  I  say  unto  you,  I  will  not  drink  of  the 
fruit  01  the  vine,  until  the  day  when  I  shall  drink  it  new  with  you 
in  my  Father's  kingdom." 

What  does  this  mysterious  sentence  mean?  Does  he  only 
mean  to  say,  "I  will  drink  no  more  passover  wine,  but 
will  eventually  enjoy  that  heavenly  felicity  with  you  which  is 
signified  by  the  wine,  in  full  measure,  in  the  Church  triumphant  ?" 
Tiie  Lord  could  not  possibly  have  intended  that  Ave  should 
thus  generalize  and  subsidize  the  meaning  of  his  very  striking 
language,  so  solemnly  introduced  with  the  words,  "I  say  unto 
you."  But  in  Christ's  perfected  kingdom  on  earth  there  will  be 
something  similar  to  our  communion  prepared  for  us,  at  which, 
perhaps,  as  from  the  tree  of  life  in  Paradise,  we  shall  again  eat, 


THE   INSTITUTION   OF   THE   LORD'S    SUPPER.  53 

and  where  we  shall  again  drink  as  from  the  fountains  of  Eden ! 
Our  Lord  really  se*ems  to  hint  at  something  of  this  nature,  al- 
though the  kind  of  eating  and  drinking,  for  which  the  glorified 
creation  will  furnish  the  elements,  may,  for  the  present,  remain  a 
mystery  to  us. 

Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  Saviour  here  undoubtedly  points  out 
the  passover  of  the  New  Covenant — in  which  he  elevates  and 
transforms  that  which  was  typical  in  the  Old — as  the  prelude  of 
a  great  and  festal  jubilee,  which  awaits  his  believing  followers  in 
the  future  of  the  kingdom  of  Grod.  That  which  exalts  the  sac- 
rament of  the  Lord's  Supper  to  such  a  prelude  will  appear  in 
the  sequel  of  our  meditations.  0  that  it  may  be  manifested  as 
such  to  the  experience  of  all  who  approach  it,  and  cause  them 
to  exclaim  with  delight  "  This  is  none  other  than  the  house  of 
G-od,  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven!"  This  would  assuredly  be  the 
case,  if  they  only  came  duly  hungering,  thirsting,  and  filially  be- 
lieving. A  single  participation  of  the  sacred  ordinance  would  then 
teach  them  more  of  its  true  nature  and  object  than  a  hundred 
theological  discourses.  They  would  then  leave  the  holy  place 
inwardly  rejoicing  in  the  language  of  the  Psalmist,  "  Thou  prepar- 
est  a  table  for  me  in  the  presence  of  mine  enemies.  Thou  anoint- 
est  my  head  with  oil,  my  cup  runneth  over !" 


VI. 

THE  INSTITUTION  OF  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

The  Passover  has  been  kept,  according  to  Israclitish  usage, 
the  paschal  lamb  has  been  consumed  by  the*  guests  with  feelings 
of  deep  emotion,  and  the  festive  cup  has  been  several  times  sent 
round  as  was  customary.  The  moment  had  now  arrived  when 
after  singing  the  great  "Haleel,"  or  psalm  of  praise,  the  meal 
should  be  concluded,  and  the  signal  given  to  the  guests  to  rise 
up  and  depart    Instead  of  this,  what  occurs  ?    The  Master,  to 


54  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

whom  all  eyes  were  directed,  rises  from  his  seat — not,  as  is  soon 
perceived,  to  leave  the  room,  but — to  commence  a  new  and  still 
more  solemn  act  than  that  of  eating  the  passover.  In  the  capac- 
ity of  the  head  of  the  family,  he  again  takes  the  bread,  breaks 
it,  and  after  giving  thanks,  distributes  it  to  his  disciples;  and 
you  know  the  words  with  which  he  accompanied  this  act.  He 
then  likewise  reaches  them  the  cup,  commands  them  all  to  drink 
of  it,  and  what  he  said  at  the  time  you  also  know.  Heaven 
alone  can  satisfactorily  explain  to  us  why  the  Evangelists  have 
not  transmitted  to  us  the  words  of  institution  used  by  the  Sa- 
viour, in  perfect  coincidence  with  each  other  as  to  their  form  and 
manner. 

"But,"  you  say,  "have  they  not  done  so?"  No,  my  friends. 
In  Matthew  and  Mark,  the  Lord,  in  breaking  the  bread,  says, 
"  Take,  eat,  this  is  my  body  which  is  given  for  you.  Do  this  in 
remembrance  of  me."  According  to  Paul  (1  Cor.  xi.  24),  He 
used  the  expression,  "broken  for  you,"  instead  of  "given  for 
you."  In  Matthew,  he  says,  on  presenting  the  cup,  "  Drink  ye 
all  of  it ;  for  this  is  my  blood  of  the  New  Testament,  which  is 
shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins."  In  Mark,  both  the 
words,  "Drink  ye  all  of  it,"  as  well  as  "for  the  remission  of 
sins,"  are  wanting.  In  Luke,  we  find  the  Lord  saying,  "Tins 
cup  is  the  New  Testament  in  my  blood,  winch  is  shed  for  you." 
Paul  expresses  it  in  like  manner,  but  describes  the  Lord  as  adding, 
"  This  do  ye,  as  oft  as  ye  drink  it,  in  remembrance  of  me." 

Here  are,  therefore,  -  manifest  differences,  although  any  thing 
but  opposition  and  contradiction.  Now  how  are  these  variations 
in  the  four  narratives  to  be  explained?  A  variety  of  supposi- 
tions, as  you  mvj  imagine,  have  been  suggested  during  eighteen 
centuries.  But  I  must  protest,  on  the  outset,  against  the  idea, 
unaccountably  entertained  by  many  pious  people,  that  one  or 
other  of  the  Evangelists  had  made  a  mistake,  and  was  unable 
minutely  to  remember  the  precise  words  used  by  the  Lord  Jesus. 
The  apostles,  in  compiling  their  sacred  records,  were  preserved 
from  every  error.  For  their  Lord  and  Master  had  expressly 
promised  them  that  the  Comforter,  the  Holy  Spirit,  should  lead 
them  into  all  truth,  and  bring  all  things  to  their  remembrance 
that  he  had  spoken  to  them.     And  can  we,  for  a  moment,  sup- 


TIIE   INSTITUTION   OF   THE   LORD'S    SUPPER.  55 

pose  tha ;  this  Spirit  should  have  been  deficient  in  Ins  office  in  such 
an  important  matter  as  the  institution  of  tins  sacrament,  and  not 
rather  have  attended  to  it  with  the  greatest  exactness  ?  Let  who- 
'  ever  will  believe  it,  I  never  can. 

But  perhaps  you  say,  "How  will  you  be  able  to  make  the 
deviations  winch  really  exist  agree  ? "  My  readers,  I  do  not  for 
a  moment  doubt  that  the  Lord  uttered  all  the  words  which  are 
recorded,  and  that  the  four  witnesses  only  enlarge  each  other's 
description  of  what  occurred;  and  it  is  my  conviction,  that  on 
distribu  ting  the  bread  and  presenting  the  cup  he  several  times 
uttered  the  words  of  institution,  and  repeated  them,  first  in  one 
form  and  then  in  another. 

Certainly,  it  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference  to  be  able  to  place 
our  foot  on  firm  ground  in  this  matter,  and  with  perfect  confi- 
dence to  say,  "  These  are  the  original  words  of  institution  used 
by  our  Lord,  in  their  authentic  and  proper  connection.  This  is 
their  essential  and  real  meaning ;  tins  the  sacred  formula  which 
is  to  continue  in  use  forever,  according  to  the  will  of  our  Lord 
himself,  and  to  be  always  uttered  at  the  celebration  of  his 
supper."  But  in  order  to  provide  for  the  real  requirements  of 
his  Church  on  earth,  the  Lord  was  subsequently  pleased  to  give 
his  apostle  Paul,  by  express  revelation,  an  unambiguous  disclos- 
ure respecting  the  formula  of  the.  institution  of  his  sacred 
ordinance.  Hear  Avhat  the  Apostle  says, — 1  Cor.  xi.  23-25 : 
"For  I  have  received  of  the  Lord,  that  which  also  I  delivered 
unto  you,  that  the  Lord  Jesus,  on  the  same  night  in  which  he 
was  betrayed,  took  bread,"  etc.  The  substance  of  the  words  of 
the  institution  is  consequently  expressed  as  to  the  bread,  in  the 
formula,  "This  is  my  body  which  is  broken  for  you;  this  do  in 
remembrance  of  me;"  as  to  the'eup,  in  the  words,  "  This  cup  is 
the  new  testament  in  my  blood ;  this  do  ye,  as  oft  as  ye  drink  it, 
in  remembrance  of  me." 

So  much  with  regard  to  the  formula  of  the  institution.  Let 
us  now  cast  a  look  at  the  actions  with  winch  our  Lord  accom- 
panied the  words: — We  read,  first,  that  "the  Lord  took  bread." 
ve,  he  took  bread,  and  not  the  flesh  of  the  paschal  lamb. 
This  he  did  that  he  might  not  countenance,  in  any  way,  such 
rude  and  gross  ideas  of  the  sacrament  as  those  expressed  by  the 


56  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

Jews  at  Capernaum  (John,  vi.),  and  that  he  might,  beforehand, 
meet  the  error,  as  if  there  were  still  room  in  the  New  Testament 
for  the  sacrifices  of  the  Old.  The  bread  which  he  took  was  the 
unleavened  passover  cake,  which,  however,  was  not  subsequently- 
used  ;  for  the  first  .Christians,  with  the  apostles  at  their  head,  at 
their  communion,  which  they  were  wont  almost  daily  to  cele- 
brate at  the  close  of  their  love-feasts,  made  use  of  the  customary 
bread;  that  is,  of  such  as  was  used  at  table,  and  therefore 
leavened. 

"The  Lord  took  bread" — this  most  indispensable  of  all  the 
means  of  nourishment  and  sustenance,  the  product  of  the  most 
valuable  of  earth's  fruits,  which  presents,  at  the  same  time,  such 
an  extremely  striking  image  of  him  without  whom  we  have  no 
spiritual  life.  But  you  ask,  "Is  the  bread  only  an  emblem,  a 
figure?"  I  inquire,  in  reply,  whether  you  wish  to  dispute  the 
position,  that  we  must  regard  the  elements  of  the  sacred  ordi- 
nance, in  the  first  instance,  as  signs,  symbols,  and  figures  ?  If  so, 
you  must  overlook  the  Lord's  words  in  John,  vi.  51,  "  I  am  the 
living  bread,  which  came  down  from  heaven,  and  give  life  unto 
the  world ; "  as  well  as  many  other  of  his  expressions  of  a  similar 
kind.  The  divine  "corn  of  wheat,"  which,  that  it  might  not 
remain  alone,  but  bring  forth  much  fruit,  fell  into  the  ground, 
and,  by  the  heat  of  Gethsemane,  and  the  fire  of  the  cross,  was 
prepared  to  become  the  spiritual  food  of  poor  sinners,  is  reflect- 
ed, like  the  sun  in  the  dew-drop,  in  the  sacramental  bread,  and 
by  the  latter  is  exhibited  to  our  view. 

After  the  Lord  had  taken  the  bread,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  to- 
ward heaven,  and  "gave  thanks" — that  is,  he  poured  out  his 
heart  in  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  his  heavenly  Father.  For 
what  did  he  render  thanks  ?  0  my  friends,  for  what  else  than 
for  the  decision  of  divine  mercy,  to  save  such  poor  sinners  as  we, 
which  he  saw  in  spirit,  as  already  accomplished  in  his  blood, 
and  for  the  deliverance  of  the  children  of  Adam  from  the  curse 
of  the  law,  the  power  of  Satan,  and  the  gulf  of  perdition.  It 
was  they  who  lay  continually  upon'  his  heart;  to  whose  restora- 
tion all  his  cares  and  anxieties  were  directed,  and  whose  exalta- 
tion and  beatification  was  the  object  of  his  highest  interest  and 
sweetest  hope.     He  gave  thanks.     0,  with  what  adoring,  delight 


THE   INSTITUTION   OF   THE  LORD'S    SUITER.  57 

will  the  holy  angels  have  caught  this  costly  incense  in  their 
golden  censers,  and  hare  borne  it  up  to  Ood !  He  gave  thanks. 
We  ought  also  to  give  thanks.  But  it  is  well  for  us,  that  in  this, 
as  in  everything  else,  he  intercedes  for  us,  and  covers  our  guilt 
with  his  obedience,  and  our  deficiencies  with  Ins  fullness. 

However  he  did  not  merely  give  thanks,  but,  according  to 
Matthew's  expression,  he  also  blessed.  It  is  true  the  word  used 
by  this  Evangelist  signifies  both  thanking  and  praising,  like 
the  word  used  by  Luke  and  Paul,  nor  would  any  greater  stress 
require  to  be  laid  upon  it,  as  including  the  idea  of  blessing,  if 
Paul,  in  employing  the  same  word  in  1  Cor.  xi.  16,  had  not 
called  the  cup,  "  the  blessed,"  or  "  the  cup  of  blessing."  The 
Saviour,  however,  pronounced  his  benediction,  not  only  upon  the 
cup,  but  also  upon  the  bread.  And  wherefore!  Was  it  in 
order  to  separate  the  elements  from  a  common  and  profane  use 
to  one  that  was  higher,  spiritual,  and  holy?  Doubtless,  he  had 
this  also  in  view.  But  where  Jesus,  the  High  Priest,  blesses,  we 
ought  to  think  of  something  more  substantial  than  a  mere  desig- 
nation and  setting  apart  of  the.  kind  above-mentioned.  We  ought 
to  expect  that  influence  is  then  exerted,  and  reality  produced. 
And  0,  what  superabundant  richness  and  fullness  of  blessing 
have  rested  on  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  communion  from  the 
benediction,  which  our  Lord  pronounced  upon  them !  Since 
that  festal  evening,  how  many  thousands  have  received  heavenly 
refreshment,  invigoration,  and  encouragement  by  their  means! 
How  many  a  wounded  heart,  in  the  course  of  eighteen  centuries, 
ten  healed,  how  many  fainting  spirits  revived,  and  the  pass- 
trough  the  dark  and  mortal  vale  illumined,  alleviated,  and 
sweetened]  and  how  innumerable  are  those  who,  till  the  end  of 
will  joyfully  experience  all  this !  Such  is  the  blessing  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  which  extends  even  to  the  bliss  of  the 
eternal  hills. 

After  our  Lord  had  given  thanks  and  blessed,  he  "  broke"  the 
bread.  Nor  is  this  without  a  deeper  meaning,  as  he  himself 
declares  immediately  afterward,  in  the  words,  "This  is  my  body, 
which  is  broken  for  yon."  Hence  the  whole  of  the  apostolic  state- 
ments of  the  institution  of  this  sacred  ordinance  do  not  fail  to  re- 
cord this  breaking  of  the  bread.    Jesus  broke  it  as  symbolic  of  that 

3* 


58  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

which  should  soon  occur  to  his  own  body,  by  which  he  should 
become  our  atoning  sacrifice  and  the  bread  of  life.  In  the  break- 
ing of  the  bread  he  depicted  his  own  death  to  the  eyes  of  the 
disciples ;  and  the  sublime  and  admirable  tranquillity  with  which 
he  did  so,  again  testifies  of  the  infinite  love  to  sinners  which  per- 
vaded his  heart. 

Our  Lord  presented  the  bread,  thus  broken,  to  his  disciples; 
and  it  is  here  that  we  see  him  in  his  proper  office  and  favorite 
vocation.  Giving,  presenting,  and  communicating,  is  his  delight. 
As  then,  so  now,  his  hand  is  stretched  out  in  his  feast  of  love, 
although  at  present  concealed  in  the  hand  of  his  human  messenger 
and  minister.  We,  his  servants,  retire,  as  regards  ourselves,  en- 
tirely into  the  background,  while  administering  the  communion. 
We  are  then  nothing  but  his  instruments.  He  himself  is  always 
the  dispenser  and  giver.  Hence  his  words  alone  are  heard  at  the 
sacred  feast ;  and  none  else,  however  beautiful  and  believing  they 
may  sound,  are  permitted  to  be  used. 

At  the  consecration  of  the  cup,  the  same  formula  was  repeated 
as  at  the  consecration  of  the  bread.  After  renewed  thanksgiving 
and  blessing,  our  Lord  presented  it  to  his  disciples,  and  invited 
them  all  to  drink  of  it.  He  calls  the  wine  his  blood,  even  as  he 
designated  the  bread  Ins  body ;  and,  both  elements  united,  indi- 
cate and  represent  the  whole  Christ,  inasmuch  as  he  gave  his 
life,  which  is  "in  the  blood,"  unto  death,  as  an  atoning  sacrifice 
for  us. 

That  the  Lord  did  not  select  water  but  wine,  for  the  symbol 
of  his  shed  blood,  was  done  from  the  wisest  motives,  and  only 
enlarges  and  diversifies  the  meaning  of  the  selected  symbol. 
Christ  is  the  real  vine,  and  we  possess  divine  life,  only  in  so  far 
as  we,  like  the  branches,  grow  through  him,  and  are  pervaded  by 
his  influence.  Besides,  the  wine  reminds  us  of  the  wine-press  of 
torture  and  agony,  in  which  the  Son  of  God  was  capacitated  tc 
become  our  Saviour  and  Mediator,  and  signifies  the  fullness  of 
heavenly  encouragement,  joy,  and  delight,  which  Christ  imparts, 
as  an  addition  and  superabundance  to  his  believing  people ;  while 
the  bread  represents  more  what  is  necessary  and  indispensable  for 
the  deliverance  and  blessedness,  which  they  possess  in  his  redemp- 
tion and  mediation. 


"lord,  is  it  i?"  59 

What  an  incomparable  legacy,  therefore,  has  the  Lord  left  us 
in  his  sacred  Supper  1  What  a  fullness  of  heavenly  blessings  and 
mercies  has  he  showered  down  upon  us  in  this  unpretending  insti- 
tution! Let  us  therefore  highly  estimate  this  precious  bestow- 
ment.  Let  us  often  avail  ourselves  of  it  by  repeated  and  devout 
approaches  to  the  sacred  table  for  the  sanctification  and  glorifica- 
tion of  our  inner  man.  Only  let  us  be  careful  to  appear  in  true 
communion  attire — in  child-like  simplicity  and  godly  poverty  of 
spirit ;  and  on  our  return  from  the  holy  place,  we  shall  feel  our- 
Belves  constrained  to  render  heartfelt  and  joyful  thanks  unto  him, 
who  has  bought  us  with  his  blood,  and  be  more  than  ever  resolved 
to  live  and  die  to  his  praise. 


VII. 
"LORD,    IS    IT    I?" 

We  return  to  the  chamber  in  which  our  Lord  and  his  disciples 
had  assembled  to  eat  the  passover,  and  previous  to  the  institu- 
tion of  the  sacred  ordinance  of  which  we  have  been  treating. 
We  find  the  disciples  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  unexpected  announcement,  which  had  fallen  from 
the  lips  of  their  beloved  Master,  that  one  of  them  should  betray 
him. 

The  Lord  had  revealed  to  them  a  painfully  affecting  secret.  He 
had  (old  fli; 'in  that  among  them  was  an  unhappy  mortal,  who 
would  have  no  part  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  would  never  see 
lift'.  The  blood  of  the  Lamb  would  not  cleanse  him  from  sin,  nor 
the  righteousness  of  the  Mediator  cover  him;  on  the  contrary,  he 
would  continue  what  he  was,  a  child  of  the  devil,  with  regard  to 
whom  it  would  have  been  better  had  he  never  been  born.  This 
reprobate  would  spurn  from  him  the  only  ground  of  salvation, 
betray  the  Lord  of  Glory,  and  thus  become  irrecoverably  the  sub- 
ject of  death  and  the  curse,  and  hasten  to  plunge  himself  into 


60  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

eternal  perdition.  It  wa*s  this  which  Jesus  revealed  to  them ;  and 
how  do  they  receive  it?  Do  they  say,  "Talk  as  you  please,  the 
consequences  will  not  be  so  fatal.  Eternal  perdition  ?  there  is  no 
one  who  need  apprehend  any  thing  of  the  kind,  since  God  is 
love."  No,  they  do  not  think  thus.  The  idea  which  pervades 
their  inmost  souls  and  retains  the  upper  hand  is  this :  "  He,  who 
at  one  glance  surveys  heaven  and  earth,  the  present  and  the 
future,  and  in  whose  mouth  no  guile  was  ever  found,  affirms  it;" 
and  hence  it  is  that  this  expression  causes  them  such  anxiety  and 
alarm. 

The  Lord  has  also  revealed  something  of  a  similar  kind  to  us. 
We  likewise  hear  from  his  lips,  that  in  all  ages,  though  many 
are  called,  yet  only  few  are  chosen  and  find  the  path  to  life ; 
while,  on  the  contrary,  many,  who  had  likewise  better  never 
have  been  born,  walk  the  road  that  leads  to  destruction,  and 
thus  become  meet  for  hell.  There  is  therefore  no  want  of  such 
pitiable  characters  in  the  present  day ;  for  he  asserts  it  who  can 
not  lie. 

The  peace  of  the  disciples  is  at  an  end,  after  this  appalling  dis- 
closure. They  can  not  leave  the  matter  thus ;  they  must  ascertain 
who  is  intended ;  and  they  do  not  seek  the  culprit  at  a  distance, 
but  among  themselves. 

Observe  here,  that  it  is  no  infallible  sign  that  we  are  not  our- 
selves the  sons  of  perdition,  because  people  regard  us  as  the 
children  of  God,  and  because  our  external  deportment  seems  to 
justify  their  opinion.  For  among  those  who  are  respected,  and 
reputed  as  blameless  characters,  among  churchmen  and  those 
who  are  apparently  devout,  nay,  even  among  those  who  fre- 
quent the  Lord's  Table,  may  be  found  such  as  are  rushing 
onward  to  destruction.  In  congregations  where  the  Gospel  is 
preached,  Satan  entraps  individuals  in  the  snare  of  religious 
self-deception,  as  well  as  in  the  pits  of  infidelity  and  ungodliness. 
Among  those  to  whom  the  dreadful  words  will  be  addressed, 
"  I  never  knew  you,"  not  a  few  will  be  found,  who,  with  good 
reason,  are  able  to  say,  "Lord,  have  we  not  eaten  and  drunk 
in  thy  presence  ?  have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy  name  ?  and  in 
thy  name  done  many  wonderful  works?"  The  disciples  were 
aware  of  this;   and  hence,  on  the  Lord's  informing  them,  that 


"lord,  is  it  i?"  61 

there  was  one  among  them,  who  was  accursed,  they  were  by  no 
means  satisfied  with  being  merely  in  their  Master's  immediate 
vicinity.  Let  us  follow  their  example  in  this  respect,  and  not 
seek  at  a  distance  those  who  shall  eventually  perish.  Let  us 
commence"  the  inquiry  within  our  own  walls,  and  not  exclude 
ourselves  from  those  whom  we  regard  as  being  possibly  the  de- 
plorable people  in  question.  On  the  contrary,  let  each,  first, 
examine  himself.  It  is  not  only  those  who  openly  revolt,  and 
swear  allegiance  to  the  enemies  of  God  and  his  Anointed,  who 
are  hastening  to  perdition,  but  there  are  also  others,  with  the 
Bible  in  their  hands,  and  the  name  of  Jesus  on  their  lips,  who 
finally  perish. 

In  order  that  their  investigation  may  not  prove  fruitless,  the 
disciples  resort  to  the  light — the  brightest  and  most  penetrating 
in  the  world, — which  never  deceives  nor  shines  with  a  delusive 
radiance.  It  is  to  Jesus  they  refer — to  him  who  tries  the  heart 
and  the  reins,  and  fathoms  every  depth.  "Lord,"  they  ask, 
one  after  the  other,  deeply  concerned  and  grieved,  "  Is  it  I  ?  Is 
it  I?"  And  0,  how  affecting  is  this  trait,  how  pleasing  and 
worthy  of  imitation ! 

David  drew  near  to  this  light  when  he  prayed,  "  Search  me, 
0  God,  and  know  my  heart ;  try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts, 
and  see  if  there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me."  Those  who  try 
themselves  by  any  other  light,  only  deceive  themselves  like  the 
Pharisees  of  old,  who  trusted  in  themselves  that  they  were  right- 
eous, and  despised  others.  0,  thou  all-penetrating  light  of  God, 
may  each  one  turn  to  thee,  that  thou  mayest  aid  him  in  discover- 
ing the  man  of  sin,  the  son  of  perdition!  How  soon  would  he 
then  be  tracked,  even  into  his  most  secret  recesses;  and  how 
much  nearer  would  he  be  found  to  be,  to  the  surprise  of  the 
seeker,  than  the  latter  could  have  believed! 

Let  us  now  inquire  into  the  result  of  the  investigation,  and  in 
so  doing,  we  arrive  at  the  most  important  and  pleasing  part 
of  the  subject.  The  son  of  perdition  is  discovered.  Each  of  them 
brings  him  bound  to  the  Lord,  and  delivers  him  up  to  his  judg- 
ment. "Each  of  them?"  you  ask  with  surprise.  Yes:  with 
one  exception,  all  of  them  have  found  the  sinner  in  their  own 
persons.     Hear  the  anxious  inquiry  which  they  address  to  their 


62  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

Master,  "Lord,  is  it  I?"  and  observe  the  downcast  look  and 
tearful  eye  with  which  they  accompany  it.  What  do  they 
mean  by  this?  They  each  intend  to  say  —"Lord,  I  feel  my 
heart  so  corrupt  that  I  am  capable  of  committing  any  evil,  and 
when  the  wind  of  temptation  blows  in  that  direction,  it  were 
even  possible  for  me  to  betray  thee  as  thou  hast  said;  un- 
guarded, and  left  to  myself,  I  can  not  depend  upon  myself  in  any 
respect.  Alas,  I  feel  that  I  am  sold  under  sin,  and  with 
my  best  resolutions,  I  find  I  am  only  like  a  reed,  shaken  by  the 
wind." 

Such,  we  may  suppose,  were  the  feelings  of  the  disciples. 
But  while  they  thus  judge  and  condemn  themselves,  a  gracious 
look  from  their  beloved  Master  assures  them  of  their  mistake ; 
and  this  is  immediately  confirmed  to  them,  still  more  intelligibly, 
by  his  declaration  that  it  was  not  one  of  the  Eleven,  but  that  he 
who  dipped  his  hand  with  him  in  the  dish,  was  the  man  that  should 
betray  him. 

"  Let  us  now  attend  to  the  important  lesson  to  be  derived  from 
this  striking  scene.  They  who  really  perish  in  the  world — the 
children  of  wrath — are  those  who  either  do  not  acknowledge 
themselves  to  be  sinners  in  the  sight  of  God,  or  who,  when  con- 
scious that  they  have  the  son  of  perdition  within  them,  neither 
judge  themselves  nor  deliver  him  over  to  the  Lord  to  execute 
judgment  upon  him,  but  only  seek  how  they  may  rescue  him 
and  disguise  him,  like  Judas  among  the  Twelve,  with  his  hypo- 
critical imitation  of  innocence  and  sincerity,  while  exclaiming 
with  the  rest,  "Master,  is  it  I?"  All  those,  however,  who  have 
discovered  in  themselves  the  sinner,  who  is  capable  of  all  evil, 
and  in  holy  indignation  bring  him  bound  before  the  Holy  One 
of  God,  and  honor  the  sentence  of  condemnation  pronounced 
upon  him  by  the  Supreme  Judge  as  just  and  righteous,  and  im- 
ploringly entreat  that  he  may  be  destroyed  by  the  lightning  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  a  new  man,  a  man  of  God,  may  be  pro- 
duced within  them  in  his  stead — such  characters  we  pronounce 
blessed;  for  from  the  moment  of  this  self-condemnation,  they 
are  marked  out  as  individuals  against  whom  the  judicial  sentence 
of  the  supreme  tribunal  is  withdrawn,  and  who  have  no  need 
to  tremble  at  any  accusation  either  of  Moses  or  Satan.     "  If  we 


JTJDAS  ISCARIOT.  63 

judge  ourselves,"  says  the  word  of  God,  "  we  shall  not  be  judged;" 
and  in  another  place,  "  They  that  humble  themselves  shall  bo 
exalted." 

Let  us,  then,  listen  to  the  exhortation  of  the  prophet  Jeremiah, 
and  "  let  us  search  and  try  our  ways,  and  turn  again  to  the 
Lord."     And  may  he  grant  that  "in  his  light  we  may  see  light." 


VIII. 

JUDAS    ISCARIOT. 

About  the  same  time  that  the  Word  became  flesh  in  Bethlehem, 
and  the  angels  of  God  sang  their  seraphic  anthem  at  his  appear- 
ance, there  was  joy  also  in  the  cottage  of  Simon  of  Carioth,  in  the 
tribe  of  Judah,  for  there  likewise  had  a  son,  though  only  a  mortal, 
seen  the  light  of  this  world.  I  imagine  that  the  heavenly  guard- 
ians of  the  little  ones  also  offered  him  their  greetings  of  welcome ; 
and  his  parents,  thankful  and  hopeful,  called  the  boy  "  Judas,"  that 
is,  the  praise  of  God,  or  the  Confessor ;  and  thus  with  silent  emo- 
tion dedicated  him  to  the  Almighty,  who  had  graciously  given  him 
to  them. 

The  little  boy  was  well-formed,  and  of  pleasing  appearance ; 
for  it  was  not  yet  written  on  his  forehead  what  he  should  eventu- 
ally become,  and  what  should  befall  him  in  the  course  of  his 
earthly  pilgrimage.  Ah!  we  now  regard  that  domestic  event 
with  other  eyes,  and  look  upon  the  unhappy  parents  with  poig- 
nant grief,  for  we  know  that  proplietic  passages,  such  as  the  fol- 
lowing had  reference  to  him :  "  Yea,  mine  own  familiar  friend, 
in  whom  I  trusted,  which  did  eat  of  my  bread,  hath  lifted  up  his 
heel  against  me." — Psalm  xii.  9.  "  As  he  loved  cursing,  so  let  it 
come  unto  him ;  as  he  delighted  not  in  blessing,  so  let  it  be  far 
from  him." — Psalm  cix.  17.  "  Let  his  days  be  few,  and  let  another 
take  his  office." 

We  are  without  any  tradition  respecting  Judas's  earlier  life ; 
but  we  certainly  do  not  mistake  if  we  take  it  for  granted  that 


64  THE    OUTER   COURT. 

his  gradual  development  was  such  as  to  justify  uncommon  hopes. 
He  soon  showed  himself  possessed  of  superior  abilities,  acute 
understanding,  strong  excitability,  and  energetic  will,  and  there- 
fore seemed,  as  he  was  probably  soon  conscious  of  himself,  to  be 
capable  of  deeds  of  a  superior  kind  than  the  limited  current  of 
quiet,  civil  life,  affords  opportunity  for  performing.  Like  the  elec- 
tric fluid  which  pervades  the  air,  and  according  as  the  conditions 
meet  either  concentrates  itself  to  a  destructive  thunderbolt,  or 
thickens  into  sheet-lightning  which  purifies  and  refreshes  the 
atmosphere.  Such  was  the  alternative  which  lay  in  the  nature  of 
the  man  of  Carioth.  It  was  to  be  foreseen  that  he  would  even- 
tually render  himself  conspicuous  on  the  stage  of  public  life  in 
some  way  or  other.  Accordingly,  as  with  the  abundance  of  his 
talents,  he  fell  under  heavenly  or  adverse  influence,  he  would 
necessarily  develop  himself,  either  as  a  chosen  instrument  of  God 
or  as  an  apostle  and  standard-bearer  of  Satan.  Alas !  he  took  the 
left-hand  road,  and  we  exclaim  respecting  him,  with  deeper  and 
more  well-founded  grief  than  Isaiah  concerning  the  King  of 
Babylon,  "  How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven,  0  Lucifer,  son  of  the 
morning !" 

The  heathen  world  is  ignorant  of  a  Judas,  and  could  not  pro- 
duce such  a  character.  Such  a  monster  matures  only  in  the 
radiant  sphere  of  Christianity.  It  was  Judas's  misfortune  that 
he  was  born  under  the  most  propitious  star.  He  entered  into  too 
close  contact  with  the  Saviour  not  to  become  either  entirely  his  or 
wholly  Satan's.  There  was  a  time  when,  with  reference  to 
Judas,  "  the  candle  of  God  shone  upon  his  head,  and  when  the 
seoret  of  God  was  upon  his  tabernacle."  Once  he  was  not 
wanting  in  susceptibility  for  impressions  of  the  most  devotional 
kind,  and  his  soul  was  capabfe  of  every  noble  elevation  of  feel- 
ing. The  appearing  of  the  "fairest  of  the  children  of  men"  in 
the  glory  of  his  marvelous  deeds,  attracted  him,  though  less 
excited  by  him  in  his  character  of  Saviour  and  the  friend  of 
sinners.  He  swore  fealty  to  the  banner  of  Jesus  with  youthful 
enthusiasm,  though  with  an  unbroken  will ;  and  the  Searcher  of 
Hearts,  perceiving  the  promising  talents  of  the  young  man — who 
was  real]  y  zealous  for  the  cause  of  God  in  a  certain  degree — con- 
fidingly admitted  him  into  the  circle   of  his  nearest  and  most 


JUDAS   ISCARIOT.  65 

intimate  disciples.  This  favor  would  never  have  been  granted 
to  Judas  if  ne  had  attached  himself  to  the  Saviour  simply  from 
interested  motives.  At  the  moment  when  he  offered  his  serv- 
ices to  the  latter,  he  was  no  hypocrite,  at  least  not  consciously 
so.  And  when  he  afterward  prayed,  studied  the  word  of  God, 
and  even  preached  it  with  the  other  disciples,  it  was  doubtless 
done  for  a  time  with  a  degree  of  inward  truthfulness :  it  was 
only  in  the  sequel  that  he  resorted  to  intentional  deception  and 
dissimulation. 

The  Lord  appointed  him  to  the  office  of  receiver  arid  almoner 
in  his  little  circle ;  and  assuredly  did  so  for  no  other  reason  than 
that  he  perceived  he'  was  the  fittest  for  that  vocation.  Many 
have  profanely  supposed  that  the  Lord  committed  the  purse  to 
him  in  order  to  tempt  him ;  but  such  a  thought  is  wholly  to  be 
rejected.  On  the  contrary,  that  circumstance  affords  us  an  addi- 
tional confirmation  of  the  fact  that  Judas,  at  the  commencement 
of  his  discipleship,  possessed  the  full  confidence  of  his  Master, 
although  it  could  not  have  been  hidden  from  the  latter  that  the 
disciple  was  still  deficient  in  a  thorough  knowledge  of  himself, 
and  especially  in  contrition  of  heart,  to  which  a  participation  in 
the  salvation  of  G-od  is  inseparably  attached. 

Amid  the  superabundance  of  pious  sentiments,  an  evil  root 
remained  within,  which  was  the  love  of  the  world,  and  especially 
of  its  gold  and  empty  honor.  And,  in  fact,  Judas  deceived 
himself  when  he  ascribed  his  admission  among  the  disciples  of 
Jesus  to  much  deeper  and  holier  motives  than  the  longing  for 
the  realization  of  those  earthly  and  enchanting  ideas  which  his 
lively  imagination  depicted  to  him  as  connected  with  that  king- 
dom which  the  Lord  had  appeared  to  establish.  As,  on  attach- 
ing himself  to  the  cause  of  the  great  Nazarene,  he  fully  supposed 
he  was  following  the  attraction  of  a  higher  and  nobler  excite- 
ment; so  his  fellow-disciples  believed  it  no  less  of  him.  The 
latent  wound  did  not  escape  the  Saviour's  eyes,  but  the  mischief 
was  not  incurable,  and  Christ  had  appeared  in  order  that,  as 
the  Divine  Physician,  he  might  heal  the  sick,  and  bind  up  the 
wounded. 

The  compassionate  love  of  Jesus  left  no  means  untried  to 
accomplish  the  cure;   but  alas!   the   result  did  not  correspond 


66  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

with  his  tender,  and  unwearied  solicitude.  It  only  too  soon  ap- 
peared that  the  pleasing  enthusiasm  which  had  borne  Judas  on 
its  wings  so  near  the  Prince  of  Peace,  was,  in  its  inmost  center, 
any  thing  but  pure  fire  from  heaven.  For  the  more  his  delusive 
ideas  concerning  the  real  nature  of  Christ's  kingdom  were  dis- 
pelled by  the  Lord's  manner  of  life,  as  well  as  by  his  expressions 
and  discourses,  the  fainter  burned  the  torch  of  his  specious  zeal, 
and  what  remained  of  it  in  his  heart  was  the  impure  fire  of  a 
selfish,  earthly  expectation  and  desire.  The  observation  that 
"  every  one  has  his  price,  at  which  he  may  be  bought,"  seems  al- 
most too  strong ;  but  the  words  are  actually  applicable  to  every 
unregenerate  man,  however  long  a  time  may  elapse  until  they  are 
fulfilled.  0  do  not  let  us  deceive  ourselves  1  even  the  most  mag- 
nanimous characters,  as  long  as  they  are  not  sanctified  by  Christ, 
are  capable,  according  to  circumstances,  of  acting  not  only  meanly, 
but  even  basely  and  vulgarly.  The  natural  man,  in  his  most  in- 
tellectual form,  does  not  lose  his  centaur-like  nature ;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  is,  that  after  having  been  engaged  in  possibly  the 
most  elevated  pursuits,  he  is  found  the  next  moment  creeping, 
like  the  serpent  in  Eden,  upon  his  belly,  and  eating  of  the  dust  of 
the  earth. 

The  awful  period  arrived  in  which  Judas  actually  succeeded  in 
mastering  the  serious  reflections  which  arose  in  his  still  suscepti- 
ble conscience,  against  the  impious  desire  of  his  heart  for  a  self- 
chosen  indemnification  for  the  disappointment  he  had  experienced. 
Probably,  under  the  deceitful  idea  that  he  only  intended  to  bor- 
row, he  laid  his  thievish  hand,  for  the  first  time,  upon  the  charit- 
able fund  intrusted  to  him ;  and  after  he  had  once  broken 
through  the  barriers  of  his  moral  consciousness,  the  next  and 
every  subsequent  embezzlement  became  easier  and  less  objection- 
able. But  the  condemning  voice  of  conscience  was  now  awak- 
ened by  the  sight  of  his  Sacred  Master.  The  Light  of  the  World 
was  to  him  a  burning  fire ;  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  even  by  his 
mute  appearance,  an  inquisitor  before  whom  he  must  either  expose 
himself  as  a  guilty  criminal,  or  envelop  himself  in  the  vail  of  hy- 
pocritical deceit;  and  he  chose  the  latter. 

For  a  considerable  time  he  thought  himself  safe  in  the  disguise 
of  his  conscious  hypocrisy,  until  the  scene  occurred  in  the  house 


JUDAS   ISCAEIOT.  07 

of  Slmoi  the  Leper  at  Bethany.  Mary's  devotedness  to  the 
Saviour  induced  her  to  pour  the  costly  ointment  upon  him. 
Judas,  destitute  of  feeling  for  the  tenderness  and  deep  signifi- 
cancy  of  the  act,  endeavored  to  depreciate  it  by  the  sanctimoni- 
ous, and  yet  rude  remark,  that  the  ointment  had  better  have 
been  sold,  and  the  product  given  to  the  poor.  But  the  Lord,  im- 
mediately interfering  for  the  aggrieved  woman,  praised  her  work 
as  "  good,"  and  as  an  act  which  should  never  be  forgotten ;  at  the 
same  time  reproving  the  ill-timed  censure  of  the  heartless  hypo- 
crite with  the  serious  words,  which  must  have  penetrated  into  his 
inmost  soul,  "  The  poor  ye  have  always  with  you,  but  me  ye  have 
not  always."  From  those  words,  and  still  more  from  the  painfully 
compassionate  look  which  accompanied  them,  the  hypocritical  dis- 
ciple became  fully  aware  that  the  Lord  saw  through  him,  and 
knew  of  his  crime. 

This  was  a  decisive  moment  for  Judas — a  moment  in  which 
blessing  and  cursing  were  once  more  offered  to  his  choice,  and 
one  which  must  necessarily  exercise  a  definite  influence  for  good 
or  evil  on  the  further  development,  of  his  inward  life.  The  erring 
disciple  must  now  either  cast  himself  down  at  Jesus' s  feet,  with 
streams  of  penitential  tears,  and  seek,  by  a  frank  confession  of 
his  lost  condition,  deliverance  and  mercy  at  the  throne  of  grace ; 
or  his  mortified  pride  must  gain  the  victory,  and  by  urging  him  to 
the  opposite  course  of  a  willful  hardening,  afford  Satan  the  oppor- 
tunity of  imparting  the  infernal  spark  of  secret  bitterness  against 
him. 

You  know  which  of  these  two  courses  Judas  took.  Immedi- 
ately after  his  Master  uttered  these  words,  which  were  only  a 
mild  reproof,  and  intended  to  heal,  Judas  hastened  away  from 
the  company  at  Bethany.  He  now  felt  himself  more  at  home, 
and  more  in  his  element  among  the  adversaries  of  Jesus  than 
in  the  sphere  of  his  previous  confederates.  The  bargain  of  the 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  was  concluded — more  from  a  secret  thirst  of 
revenge,  than  from  avarice  and  the  love  of  money.  Judas  met 
the  remonstrance  of  his  conscience  with  the  excuse  that  it  would 
be  an  easy  thing  for  the  wonder-working  Babbi,  if  he  chose,  to 
save  himself  from  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  However,  he  knew 
only  half  of  what  he  was  doing.     He  had  plunged  himself  into  a 


08  THE    OUTER    COURT. 

vortex  against  which  he  was  unable  to  straggle.  He  no  longer 
guided  himself;  another  dragged  him  away  behind  him.  He  had 
reached  the  horrible  state  of  those  whose  "  feet  stumble  upon  the 
dark  mountains." 

It  might  have  bee  i  supposed  that  Judas  would  have  been  no 
longer  able  to  bear  the  company  of  Jesus.  We  nevertheless  soon 
see  him  again  in  his  old  place  among  the  Twelve.  I  know  not 
whether  that  which  drew  him  thither  was  the  tormenting  uneasi- 
ness he  felt,  and  the  inward  curse,  or  whether  it  was  the  appre- 
hension of  drawing  down  suspicion  upon  him  if  he  were  absent ; 
or  perhaps  he  even  calculated  on  the  possibility  of  the  Saviour's 
establishing  a  kingdom,  according  to  his  views  of  it,  and  was  de- 
sirous of  reserving  the  part  he  had  to  play  in  such  a  case.  Prob- 
ably all  these  motives  co-operated  to  induce  him  to  present  himself 
among  them.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  we  meet  the  son  of  perdition 
in  the  last  social  evening  circle  at  Jerusalem ;  and  we  see  the  Lord 
again  trying  every  thing  to  save  the  soul  thus  sick  unto  death. 
From  a  delicate  wish  to  spare  his  feelings,  he  does  not  require  him 
to  give  up  the  custody  of  the  money,  but  leaves  him  still  in  the 
office  assigned  him. 

It  was  necessary,  however,  that  the  Lord  should  give  him  to 
understand  the  danger  in  which  he  knew  the  poor  man's  soul  to 
be  placed;  and  hence,  while  sitting  at  table,  the  Saviour  begins, 
with  deep  emotion  and  affectionate  grief,  to  say  to  his  disciples, 
"  Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  one  of  you  shall  betray  me !" 
The  eleven  arc  struck  with  inexpressible  amazement.  They  look 
at  each  other  with  alarm  and  grief,  and  break  out  in  turn  into 
the  anxious  inquiry,  "  Lord,  is  it  I  ?"  The  son  of  perdition  does 
not  discover  himself.  Ah,  only  a  few  minutes  now  remain  of 
his  day  of  grace !  A  voice  from  within,  as  though  it  were  his 
good  angel,  says  to  him,  "Reveal  thyself,  Judas;  throw  down 
the  mask,  and  escape  from  eternal  perdition  before  the  door  of 
mercy  is  closed."  But  Judas  resists,  and  envelops  himself  still 
more  deeply  in  his  disguise ;  for  another  voice  still  more  power- 
fully pervades  his  soul,  and  drowns  every  better  feeling  within  him. 
The  Lord  then  defines  his  meaning  more  particularly,  and  says, 
"  One  of  the  Twelve  that  dippeth  his  hand  with  me  in  the  dish, 
the  same  shall  betray  me,"  and  then  solemnly  pronounces  the  Woe 


JUDAS   ISCAKIOT.  69 

upon  the  man  -who  should  commit  this  heinous  crime,  and  reveals 
to  him  his  fate. 

The  hearts  of  the  Eleven  tremble.  Simon  Peter  beckons  to 
the  disciple  who  leaned  on  Jesus's  bosom  to  inquire  who  it  is  of 
whom  their  Master  is  speaking.  John  then  ventures,  though 
timidly,  to  ask,  "Lord,  who  is  it?"  The  latter  now  tears  away 
the  last  shred  of  the  mask  from  the  traitor's  face,  and  says,  "  He 
it  is  to  whom  I  shall  give  a  sop,  when  I  have  dipped  it.  And 
when  he  had  dipped  the  sop,  he  gave  it  to  Judas  Iscariot,  the 
son  of  Simon."  The  disciples  shudder,  and  Judas  stands,  pale 
as  a  corpse,  trembling,  his  eyes  wandering,  and  completely  un- 
manned. "  0  Judas,  there  is  still  time !  The  sounds  that  have 
hitherto  smote  thy  ear  were  all  intended  to  call  thee  to  repent- 
ance. Bethink  thee;  cast  away  thy  disguise;  confess,  and  cry 
for  mercy!"  "But  shall  I  confess?" — thinks  Judas  to  himself. 
"  Shall  I  give  honor  to  him  who  has  so  mercilessly  exposed  me  ? 
— condemn  myself,  in  the  presence  of  my  comrades,  to  eternal 
disgrace,  and  show  myself  before  all  the  world  as  a  miserable 
coward  ?     No,  I  '11  be  a  man,  and  act  accordingly." 

Such  was  probably  the  language  of  his  soul,  and  with  a  mix- 
ture of  horrible  boldness  and  profound  perturbation,  while  swal- 
lowing the  sop,  in  hypocritical  indifference,  notwithstanding  the 
unmistakable  T^rds  of  the  Master,  he  still  ventures  to  stammer 
out  the  question,  "  Master,  is  it  I  ?"  The  Lord  now  giving  up 
the  son  of  perdition,  with  infinite  grief  of  heart  replies,  "  Thou 
sayest  it."  That  moment,  the  evil  will  of  Judas  overcame  the 
last  and  most  powerful  attraction  of  mercy,  and  the  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost  was  perpetrated.  The  day  of  salvation  closed ; 
the  hour  of  the  visitation  of  divine  mercy  expired ;  the  angels 
of  peace  sorrowfully  removed  from  his  side,  and  Satan  triumph- 
'  antly  entered  into  him.  The  saying  of  the  Saviour  "  One  of 
you  is  a  devil,"  was  now  verified.  The  most  terrible  specimen  of 
humanity  which  had  hitherto  trod  the  earth,  now  appeared  upon 
the  stage. 

Then  said  Jesus  unto  him  in  conclusion,  "  That  thou  doest,  do 
quickly !"  thereby  giving  him  to  understand  that  he  was  fully 
aware  of  his  intention.  He  intimated  to  him  at  the  same  time 
that  he  henceforth  regarded  him  as  the  instrument  by  which  Ms 


fjO  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

heavenly  Father  would  deliver  him  up  to  the  sufferings  to  which 
he  was  on  the  point  of  submitting  from  voluntary  love  to  sin- 
ners. The  Eleven  knew  not  how  to  explain  the  words,  "  That 
thou  doest,  do  quickly."  Some  of  them  thought,  in  their  sim- 
plicity, that  because  Judas  earned  the  bag,  the  Lord  had  said  to 
him,  "Buy  those  things  we  have  need  of  against  the  feast:" 
while  others  imagined  their  Master  had  given  Judas  a  hint  to 
distribute  something  to  the  poor — so  far  were  they  from  having 
my  idea  of  the  crime  which  one  of  their  number  was  about  to 
commit.  The  latter,  however,  understood  the  Lord  Jesus  better. 
But  let  us  not  overlook  the  circumstance,  that  Jesus  while  say- 
ing, "  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly !"  dismissed  the  traitor  from 
the  circle  of  his  confidential  followers,  and  from  the  chamber  in 
which  they  were  assembled.  And  probably  those  expositors 
were  in  the  right  who,  on  the  testimony  of  the  beloved  disciple, 
consider  that  Judas  was  no  longer  present  when  the  Sacrament 
was  instituted. 

Scarcely  had  the  son  of  perdition  left  the  room,  on  the  hint 
he  had  received,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  saw  himself  alone  with  his 
eleven  faithful  disciples,  when  the  burden  was  removed  from  his 
heart.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  atmosphere  had  suddenly 
changed,  and  been  purified  from  some  noxious  and  oppressive 
element.  The  Saviour  breathes  more  freely,  and  then  begins 
with  sublime  elevation  of  soul  to  say,  "  Now  is  the  Son  of  Man 
glorified,  and  God  is  glorified  in  him.  If  God  be  glorified  in  him, 
God  shall  also  glorify  him  in  himself,  and  shall  straightway  glorify 
him." 

Judas  went  out.  With  awful  significancy,  the  narrative  adds, 
"And  it  was  night."  Yes,  night  externally  and  internally. 
We  see  the  deplorable  being  now  entirely  sold  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  powers  of  darkness,  and  fitted  for  commiting  the 
most  horrible  crimes.  For  what  is  his  object?  It  is  as  if  a 
spirit  of  darkness,  in  hatred  of  the  light,  should  prepare,  in  his 
wrath,  to  extinguish  the  sun  which  reveals  Ins  deformity.  As  if 
some  insane  Titan  should  undertake  to  cast  down,  in  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel,  the  throne  of  the  moral  government  of  the  world, 
in  order  that  henceforth  sin  might  have  no  more  cause  to  tremble. 
And  as  if  on  3,  who  is  wounded  by  the  arrows  of  conscience, 


JUDAS   ISCARIOT.  11 

should  endeavor  to  choke  and  expel  from  the  world  its  per- 
sonified light,  which  was  manifested  in  Christ,  and  which  first 
impressed  the  divine  seal  upon  the  sentence  of  individual  con- 
science. Such  are  the  heinous  acts  for  winch  Judas  is  preparing 
himself,  although  confusedly  and  half  unconscious  of  what  he  is 
doing.  The  gloomy  power  to  which  he  has  submitted  himself, 
hurries  him  away  in  its  whirl,  and  he  is  no  longer  able  to  direct 
Ins  steps  as  he  pleases. 

0  Judas,  Judas!  happy  would  it  have  been  wert  thou  the 
only  one  of  thy  kind !  But  the  name  of  thy  brethren,  even  in 
the  present  day,  is  "  Legion."  They  were  not,  indeed,  at  any 
time  thy  like-minded  apostles ;  but,  like  thee,  they  once  inhaled 
the  pure  air  of  the  Gospel,  and  were  shone  upon,  like  thee,  by 
the  rays  of  the  eternal  Morning-Star.  They  were  baptized  like 
thee;  they  grew  up,  nourished  by  the  views  of  divine  truth; 
and  on  the  day  of  their  confirmation  devoted  themselves,  more 
or  less  sincerely,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  to  the  Lord  and 
his  cause.  But  unfaithful  to  their  sacred  vows,  they  revolted 
with  the  inmost  tendency  of  then  hearts  to  the  god  of  this 
world;  and  instead  of  the  kingdom  of  divine  light  and  peace, 
the  idea  of  another  presented  itself  to  their  minds,  in  which  the 
flesh  should  have  its  unrestrained  and  complete  gratification. 
This  object  they  pursued,  but  the  Holy  One  upon  the  throne  of 
David,  in  the  power  of  religion,  interposed  in  the  way  to  its 
attainment.  He  requires  the  crucifixion  of  the  flesh  with  its 
affections  and  lusts;  unconditional  submission  to  the  divine 
commands,  and  unceasing  endeavors  after  godliness.  He  pro- 
tects property,  sanctifies  the  marriage  state,  introduces  order 
into  families,  condemns  revolt,  perjury,  deceit,  uncleanness,  in- 
temperance, and  every  offense  against  the  moral  government  of 
the  world,  as  the  supporter  and  advocate  of  which  he  appears. 
And  they  who  would  gladly  elevate  their  lusts  to  be  the  world's 
law,  feel,  more  or  less,  in  their  consciences,  the  weight  of  his 
requirements  as  the  sting  of  their  condemnation;  and  without 
confessing  it,  are  inwardly  constrained,  even  against  themselves, 
to  jus  lily  the  warnings  and  teachings  of  Christ's  religion,  as 
absolute  and  irrefutable  truth.  But  this  fills  them  with  bitter- 
ness, and  enkindle3  in  them  the  infernal  spark  of  enmity  against 


Y2  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

the  Gospel,  and  against  the  Lord  as  its  author.  Thus  they  be- 
come enemies  of  God,  and  join  in  Satan's  colossal  attempts  to 
war  against  the  power  and  majesty  of  God  in  the  Christian 
religion,  and  to  bury  the  whole  world  of  religious  and  moral 
sentiments  in  the  gigantic  grave  of  an  atheistic  materialism, 
which  denies  the  existence  of  a  future  state.  They  prepare  for 
Jesus  the  cross  of  an  enthusiast;  for  his  Gospel,  the  sarcophagus 
of  what  they  profanely  call  antiquated  ideas;  for  his  whole 
Church,  the  stairs  of  Pilate,  on  which,  in  their  view,  it  descends 
from  the  scene  of  reality  into  a  kingdom  of  shadows ;  and  thus 
renew  the  treachery  of  Judas  to  his  Lord  for  the  wretched  reward 
of  an  expected  state  of  things,  in  which,  in  a  short  time,  every 
consciousness  of  a  superior  fate  for  mankind  would  perish  by  the 
poisonous  nutriment  of  a  base  and  transitory  lust. 

Only  open  your  ears,  and  you  will  hear  from  the  camp  of  the 
world  the  infernal  war-cry,  "  Away  with  Jesus  and  the  doctrine 
of  his  cross!"  Phenomena,  such  as  those  which  meet  us  in  the 
present  day,  were  never  before  seen  in  the  world  in  such  anti- 
christian  atrocity  and  massiveness.  The  traitor,  Judas,  is  again 
visible  on  the  stage,  full  of  deadly  hatred  to  God,  in  a  thousand 
colossal  antitypes:  and  if  there  is  one  doctrine  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  which  finds  in  the  present  day  its  tangible  confirma- 
tion, it  is  that  of  the  existence  of  a  Ruler  ot  Darkness,  and  of  a 
kingdom  of  infernal  powers.  It  is  now  that  the  prophetic  ex- 
pression in  the  Revelations  is  fulfilled,  "  The  devil  is  come  down 
unto  you,  having  great  wrath,  because  he  knoweth  that  he  hath 
but  a  short  time."  The  pentecost  of  hell  is  being  accomplished, 
and  it  pours  out  its  spirit  over  mankind  like  a  shower  of  fire  and 
brimstone,  and  its  shield-bearers  and  apostles  shoot  up  from  the 
earth,  like  the  fungus,  in  a  night. 

Let  every  one  beware  of  being  baptized"  with  such  a  baptism ! 
He  that  does  not  decide  for  the  Lord  to-day,  may  to-morrow  be 
found  opposed  to  him,  and  carrying  the  banner  of  Satan.  Neu- 
trality is  a  forlorn  position.  He  that  enters  but  half-way  into  the 
prevailing  tendency  of  the  present  day,  finishes  his  course  before 
he  is  aware  and  in  spite  of  -his  best  resolutions,  in  the  hatred  of 
Judas,  that  is  in  the  snare  of  the  devil.    And  he  who  reaches 


THE   "WOE  DENOUNCED.  73 

the  spirit  of  the  times  only  the  tip  of  his  finger,  may  rest  assured 
that  soon  his  whole  hand  will  be  taken. 

Let  us  therefore  hasten  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  devote  ourselves, 
with  body  and  soul,  unto  him  as  an  entire  offering,  which  is  but 
our  reasonable  service.  Eecourse  to  his  wounds  is  still  open  to- 
day, but  may  perhaps  not  be  so  to-morrow.  Eise  up,  therefore, 
and  secure  your  souls ;  and  pray  that  you  may  be  preserved  from 
the  snares  of  Satan,  and  from  the  hour  of  temptation  winch  shall 
come  upon  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth. 


IX. 

THE    WOE    DENOUNCED. 

Were  any  one  to  ask  me  what  passage  in  the  whole  Bible  I 
regarded  as  the  most  awful  and  appalling,  I  should  not  require 
to  reflect  long  before  giving  him  an  answer.  I  should  neither 
refer  to  the  words  in  Dent,  xxvii.  26,  "  Cursed  be  every  one 
that  continueth  not  in  all  the  words  of  this  law  to  do  them;"  nor 
to  the  assertion  in  John,  hi.  36,  "  He  that  believeth  not  the  Son 
of  God  shall  not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of  G-od  abideth  on  him." 
Nor  should  I  call  to  mind  the  overwhelming  words  of  the 
Apostle  Paul  to  Bar-jesus,  Acts,  xiii.  10,  "  0  full  of  all  subtlety 
and  all  mischief,  thou  child  of  the  devil!"  nor  the  denuncia- 
tions of  our  Lord  himself  against  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Matt  xxiii.  On  the  contrary,  I  would  refer  the  inquirer  to  the 
dreadful  woe  pronounced  upon  Judas,  and  feel  assured  that  he 
would  confess  that  nothing  more  appalling  and  awful  can  be 
found  in  the  sacred  volume,  than  is  contained  in  the  woe  which 
Jesus  uttered  upon  his  betrayer.  Many  a  one  who  has  passed 
unscathed  by  Sinai,  has  been,  compelled  by  it  to  cry  for  mercy 
with  a  broken  heart 

Listen:  "Woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  the  Son  of  Man  is 
betrayed ;  it  had  been  good  for  that  man  that  he  had  never  been 

4 


7.4  the  outer  couur. 

born!"  Who  is  it  that  utters  these  dreadful  words?  Consider 
this  on  the  outset,  and  the  words  will  then  begin  to  unfold  their 
horrors.  0  that  another  had  uttered  them,  and  not  He  from  whose 
lips  they  emanated !  0  that  they  had  come  forth  from  the  mouth 
of  one  like  ourselves,  a  mortal,  a  human  prophet,  a  poor  sinner ! 
Room  would  then  have  been  afforded  for  a  variety  of  considera- 
tions, which  might,  in  some  measure,  alleviate  the  dreadful  sen- 
tence, and  we  might  think  .ourselves  justified  in  deducting  soriie- 
tliing  from  its  horrible  import,  and  place  it  to  the  account  of  the 
irascibility  of  the  speaker,  or  ascribe  it  to  a  well-meant  intention, 
by  the  appalling  awfulness  of  his  words,  to  deter  the  sinner,  if 
possible,  from  his  impious  purpose.  But  it  is  Jesus  from  whose 
lips  the  denunciation  proceeds ;  it  is  the  King  of  Truth,  the  Friend 
of  Sinners,  who  utters  it ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  state  what  an 
enormous  weight  and  dreadful  emphasis  this  circumstance  alone 
attaches  to  the  words.  For  in  them  we  hear  not  the  voice  of 
passion,  but  the  voice  of  him  who  could  justly  say  of  himself, 
"I  am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart."  It  is,  therefore,  not  blind 
fury,  unconscious  of  what  it  utters,  that  raves  and  rages  here,  but 
it  is  the  considerate  testimony  of  One  whose  own  heart  bleeds 
at  being  obliged  to  pronounce  such  a  sentence  on  the  man  who 
had  been  lus  confidant. 

The  speaker,  in  tins  instance,  is  one  who  is  not  accustomed 
to  deal  in  exaggerations ;  but  he  who  thus  pronounces  sentence, 
calls  himself  the  "  Truth,"  and  is  unequaled  for  modesty  of  ex- 
pression and  correctness  of  language.  It  is  no  short-sighted  per- 
son, nor  one  subject  to  error  like  ourselves,  who  utters  these 
words ;  but  they  proceed  from  the  lips  of  him  who  is  infallible, 
of  whom  it  is  written,  that  he  needed  not  that  any  should  testify 
of  man,  for  he  knew  what  was  in  man.  Yes,  the  dreadful  ana- 
thema is  uttered  by  One,  the  sphere  of  whose  vision  takes  in 
time  and  eternity,  whose  spiritual  eye  pierces  through  the  gloom 
of  the  realms  of  darkness,  and  before  whom,  as  the  future 
Judge  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  the  life  and  fate  of  every  indi- 
vidual, even  beyond  death  and  the  grave,  lies  open  and  exposed. 
Such  is  he  who  testifies  concerning  Judas  Iscariot,  "  It  had 
been  good  for  that  man  if  he  had  not  been  born."  This  must, 
therefore,  be  the  case,  and  that  dreadful  sentence  can  not  contain 


THE   WOE   DENOUNCED.  f5 

one  syllable  more  than  is  necessary.  0  horror  of  horrors  with- 
out a  parallel !  Who  does  not  tremble  here  as  if  hell  were  open 
before  him  ? 

But  it  may  be  asked,  "  Why  was  he  born,  if  it  had  been  better 
that  he  had  never  been  born  ?"  Cease  such  inquiries,  lest  they 
should  only  increase  the  awful  import  of  the  words.  Listen  to 
what  the  Lord  says,  "  The  Son  of  Man  goeth  as  it  is  written  of  him 
(lie  fulfills  his  destiny  according  to  his  heavenly  Father's  counsel 
and  will) ;  but  woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  the  Son  of  Man  is 
betrayed!" 

Observe  the  Lord's  object  in  these  words.  He  evidently  designs 
to  let  the  whole  onus  of  the  betrayal  rest  wholly  upon  Judas,  as 
being  voluntarily  committed  by  him,  and  to  justify  the  Almighty, 
on  the  contrary,  as  altogether  guiltless  of  the  act,  and  as  in  no  re- 
spect operating  to  produce  it.  You  may,  however,  object,  and 
say,  "  Certainly,  we  are  far  from  wishing  to  deny  that  grace  and 
strength  did  not  stand  at  the  command  of  the  degenerate  disciple 
to  withstand  Satan,  and  to  enable  him  to  return  to  the  Lord ;  but 
the  omniscient  God  foresaw  that  he  would  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion, but  would  fall  into  the  snare  of  the  devil,  and  eternally  perish." 
I  reply,  that  he  doubtless  foresaw  this,  and  even  predicted  it  by  his 
prophets.  "But,"  say  you,  "since  the  Lord  knew  that  it  would 
have  been  good  for  that  man  had  he  never  been  born,  why  did 
he  not  prevent  his  birth  ?  Why  did  he  not  hinder  the  marriage 
of  his  parents  ?  Why  did  he  not  smite  the  mother  of  Judas  with 
barrenness,  as  he  formerly  smote  Michal?  Or  why  did  he  not 
take  the  babe  to  himself  while  in  the  cradle?  Why  did  he 
give  him  time  and  space  to  ripen  for  such  a  state  of  repro- 
bation ?  Why  did  God  do  tins,  since  he  is  Almighty,  and  love  itself?" 

Restrain  such  inquiries,  my  readers.  Be  satisfied  to  remain  in 
ignorance.  No  human  spirit  fathoms  the  depths  of  God's  gov- 
ernment of  the  world.  To  us  it  is  a  sealed  mystery  how  the  all- 
loving  God  can  suffer  men  to  be  born  whose  course  of  life  he 
;  <y  virtue  of  his  ^nniscience,  will  terminate  in  the  abyss  of 
eternal  perdition.  We  can  only  infer  from  hence  that  the  un- 
searehable  God  must  love  in  a  different  manner  to  us  men,  who 
have  no  idea  of  a  love  which  goes  hand  in  hand  with  justice. 
Consider,  besides,  what  would  become  of  liberty,  if  God  were,  in 


76  THE  OUTER  COURT. 

a  compulsory  manner,  to  hinder  any  one  from  destroying  himself 
and  perishing  ?  What  would  become  of  the  splendor  of  his  throne, 
if,  in  order  to  avoid  punishing,  he  put  aside  the  objects  of  his 
retributive  justice,  or  forcibly  restrained  their  free  and  active 
development  ?  Finally,  we  have  no  need  to  be  anxious  how  the 
Eternal  God  will  eventually  account  for  every  single  act  of  his 
universal  government,  but  may  rest  assured  that  on  the  great 
day  of  revelation,  while  developing  his  guidance  and  his  ways, 
he  will  constrain  all  that  have  breath  to  join  in  the  words  of 
Moses,  "  The  Lord  is  a  rock;  his  work  is  perfect;  for  all  his  ways 
are  judgment;  a  God  of  truth  and  without  iniquity;  just  and 
right  is  he." 

Let  us  now  consider,  a  little  more  closely,  the  woe  denounced 
by  our  Lord  upon  his  betrayer,  and  let  it  unfold  its  horrors  to 
our  view.  The  Lord  commences  his  sentence  with  a  "  Woe !" 
and  when  Christ  pronounces  a  woe!  no  one  in  heaven  or  in 
earth  can  any  longer  say,  "  Peace  be  with  thee  I"  or  bless  with 
any  effect.  "  It  would  have  been  good  for  that  man" — an  un- 
common mode  of  expression  in  the  mouth  of  the  Good  Shepherd. 
He  does  not  otherwise  call  poor  sinners  thus.  That  appellation 
has  in  it  something  of  a  repudiating  nature,  and  a  sound  of  separa- 
tion pervades  it.  Judas  no  longer  concerns  the  Saviour.  Jesus 
dismisses  him  from  the  circle  of  his  disciples,  and  regards  him 
henceforward  as  a  stranger.  How  awful  is  this,  and  how  over- 
whelming !  What  will  become  of  the  unhappy  man,  now  that  the 
only  one  who  could  have  saved  him,  lets  him  go  ?  God  grant  that 
the  Prince  of  Peace  may  call  us  by  another  name  than  the  strange 
and  icy  appellation,  "  That  man !"  I  can  not  imagine  any  thing 
more  horrible  than  to  be  compelled  to  hear  him  say,  "  I  know  thee 
not:  I  know  not  whence  thou  art;  I  never  knew  thee,  Depart 
from  me !" 

"It  had  been  good  for  that  man  had  he  never  been  born." 
The  Lord  could  not  have  expressed  himself  in  a  more  appalling 
manner  respecting  the  desperate  condition  of  the  traitor,  than  he 
does  in  these  words.  A  mere  denunciation  of  woe  would  still 
have  left  us  some  hope  for  the  deeply-fallen  being ;  or,  at  least, 
would  not  have  excited  in  us  such  dreadful  ideas  of  the  misery 
to  which  he  was  hastening  as  this  declaration  forces  upon  us,  by 


THE   WOE   DENOUNCED.  77 

which  the  List  prospect  of  a  possible  rescue  of  the  disciple  is 
annihilated.  0  the  heart-rending  view,  which  this  assertion 
affords  us  into  the  depths  of  perdition !  How  horrible  must  the 
fate  of  the  reprobate  be,  when  the  Lord  himself  affirms  that 
Judas  had  cause  to  curse  the  day  of  his  birth !  0  if  the  fate  of 
the  rejected  were  only  partially  tolerable,  the  King  of  Truth 
would  never  have  spoken  thus.  But  while  giving  us  most 
plainly  to  understand  that  nothing  better  could  be  desired  for 
the  son  of  perdition  than  a  return  to  nonentity,  he  thereby 
gives  us  an  idea  of  hell,  which  ought  to  make  all  our  bones  to 
quake.  And  can  we  suppose  that  there  really  exists  a  way  of 
escape  from  such  a  state  of  condemnation,  and  that  the  angel  of 
hope  still  lingers  in  its  horrid  abyss,  or  that  repentance  is  still 
preached  and  mercy  offered  to  the  finally  impenitent?  If  such 
Were  the  case,  would  our  Lord  have  made  use  of  language  such 
as  he  here  employed  concerning  Judas?  No,  never!  We 
should  then  have  heard  milder  words  from  his  lips.  Then 
indeed,  it  would  have  been  better  to  be  born,  than  never  to  have 
been.  In  this  case  a  man  would  still  have  reason  to  bless  God 
for  the  hour  of  Ms  birth,  and  none  to  execrate  and  curse  it- 
But  Jesus  himself  asserts  that  it  would  have  been  good  for 
Judas  had  he  never  been  born ;  and  we,  therefore,  know  enough 
to  banish  the  last  hope  of  his  recovery.  It  is  dreadful  to  see 
ourselves  compelled  to  this  alternative;  but  according  to  our 
Lord's  words,  it  is  unavoidable.  The  eternity  of  hell-torments, 
•ore,  is  established.  The  worm  dieth  not,  neither  is  the  fire 
quenched  in  those  haunts  of  woe. 

Now,  let  my  readers  judge  whether  a  more  awful  inscription 
could  have  been  written  on  the  tombstone  of  Judas  than  that 
we  have  just  contemplated.  He  now  proves  its  truth.  The 
flames  of  eternal  despair  now  blaze  around  him,  and  if  he  is  now 
crying  out,  as  Job  once  did,  "  Let  the  day  perish  wherein  I  was 
born,  and  the  night  in  which  it  was  said,  there  is  a  man-child  Lorn," 
he  only  puts  the  seal  upon  Ins  Master's  words  and  denunciation, 
u  It  had  been  good  for  that  man  had  he  never  been  born." 

After  having  considered  the  dreadful  import  of  these  awful 
words,  let  us  now  inquire  respecting  their  application  and  limit- 


^8  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

ation.  We  lament  over  the  unhappy  disciple;  but  let  us  be- 
ware lest  the  denunciation  pronounced  against  him,  be  uttered 
respecting  us ;  seeing  that  it  is  possible  for  the  same  reasons,  as 
with  Judas,  that  it  were  good  for  some  had  they  never  been  born. 
It  is,  of  course,  not  in  my  power  to  point  out  with  certainty  the 
individual  to  whom  these  appalling  words  are  applicable  ;  but  I 
may  say  that  he  who  finds  within  lum  certain  characteristics, 
has  reason  to  fear  for  his  soul.  For  he  that  shares  them  with 
Judas,  shares  also  in  his  condemnation.  You  anxiously  inquire, 
"What  are  those  characteristics?"  I  will  therefore  cursorily 
bring  them  before  you,  that  you  may  examine  yourselves  by 
them. 

Let  me,  first  of  all,  point  out  to  you,  that  a  degree  of  outward 
propriety  affords  no  reason  for  the  tranquilizing  idea  that  you 
do  not  belong  to  those  who  had  better  never  been  born.  For 
observe,  that  Judas  had  also  outwardly  forsaken  the  world,  and 
had  been  nourished  up  with  the  milk  of  the  Divine  Word ;  had 
lived,  subsequently,  continually  among  the  children  of  God, 
been  innocently  regarded  by  them  as  a  brother,  had  prayed  and 
fasted  with  them,  belonged  to  the  immediate  retinue  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  had  been  his  disciple  and  confidant,  had 
assisted  in  preaching  his  Gospel,  had  suffered  reproach  for 
Christ's  sake,  had — like  the  rest — wrought  miracles  in  the  name 
of  Jesus;  and  yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  "It  had  been  good 
for  him  if  he  had  never  been  born."  0  take  tins  to  heart,  my 
dear  readers,  and  beware  of  regarding  your  respectability,  your 
devotions,  your  religious  knowledge,  your  good  name  among  be- 
lievers, and  the  like,  as  a  secure  defense,  behind  which  you  are 
safe  from  the  flames  of  hell ! 

But  now  turn  your  eyes  inward,  and  give  an  account  of 
yourselves  to  me,  or  rather  to  Him,  in  whose  name  I  address 
you.  There  are  those  in  the  world  who  envelop  themselves  in  the 
mantle  of  religion,  in  order,  like  Judas,  to  conceal  a  devil  beneath 
it.  Secured  from  the  judicial  eye  of  the  world,  they  would  gladly 
serve  the  demons  of  lust,  avarice,  or  pride ;  and  on  this  very  ac- 
count they  put  on  the  mask  of  religion.  I  now  ask,  are  you  one 
of  this  description  of  people  ? 

There  are  those  also,  who,  though  often  aroused  and  awakened, 


THE   WOE   DENOUNCED.  79 

still  refuse  to  give  themselves  to  Christ,  because  they  are  held  in 
bondage  by  some  secret  sin,  which  they  have  not  the  courage  to 
condemn  and  renounce.  Hence,  they  indulge  in  it  with  a  gloomy 
composure,  the  result  of  habit;  and  in  time,  their  guilt  increases 
to  such  a  degree  that  they  would  consent  to  any  thing  rather  than 
it  should  be  brought  to  light.  Are  there  any  of  this  class  among 
my  readers  ? 

Again,  there  are  people  who,  minutely  examined,  have  only 
one  care,  which  is,  lest  they  should  be  seen  behind  the  mask, 
and  lest  it  should  be  discovered  that  they  have  never  been  con- 
verted, although  they  have  been  for  years  regarded  as  being  so. 
Hypocrisy  has  become  instinctive  within  them,  and  without  being 
aware  of  it,  they  are  always  occupied  in  disguising  their  words, 
looks,  gestures,  and  actions,  in  such  a  manner  that  their  true 
character  and  sentiments  may  not  be  discovered.  Is  this  the  case 
with  any  of  you? 

There  are  likewise  individuals,  who  have  so  often  succeeded  in 
withstanding,  by  dint  of  defiance  or  intentional  dissipation  and 
self-persuasion,  the  thunders  of  truth  directed  against  their 
carnal  security,  that  they  have  at  length  attained  a  facility  in 
weakening  the  attractive  influences  of  the  grace  and  Spirit  of  God, 
and  are  become,  as  it  were,  bomb-proof  against  the  most  appall- 
ing horrors  of  the  eternal  world,  and  equally  unsusceptible  of  the 
Sweetest  allurements  of  Divine  Love.  Are  any  of  my  readers  thus 
hardened? 

Further,  there  are  those  who,  at  the  cost  of  a  little  of  their 
mammon,  aid  in  building  the  ark  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  yet 
an>  displeased  on  hearing  that  this  kingdom  flourishes  and  pro- 
s&  Had  they  been  present  at  Mary's  evidence  of  tender 
and  sacred  affection  in  anointing  the  Saviour,  they  would  also 
have  been  ready  to  say  with  Judas,  "Why  tins  waste?  The 
money  had  been  better  spent  for  worthier  purposes."  Nay,  such 
people  even  experience  a  malicious  pleasure;  if,  for  instance, 
the  Missionary  cause,  to  which,  for  .the  sake  of  appearances, 
they  may  possibly  have  contributed,  seems  to  retrograde,  and 
when,  generally  speaking,  the  zeal  for  the  cause  of  God  appears  to 
abate.  I  ask,  Are  there  any  of  my  readers  who  are  the  subjects 
of  such  feelings  ? 


80  THE    OUTER    COURT. 

Finally,  there  are  individuals,  who  are  so  far  overcome  by  the 
truth  of  the  Gospel,  as  to  feel  compelled  to  bear  witness  to  it  in 
their  consciences,  but  do  so  reluctantly,  and  against  their  will. 
Hence,  as  often  as  they  hear  or  read  any  thing  that  encourages 
the  idea  in  them  that  they  can  obtain  admittance  into  heaven 
without  Christ,  from  whose  method  of  salvation  they  would 
gladly  escape,  they  feel  inwardly  comfortable.  Are  there  such 
among  you?  Examine  your  inmost  motives,  and  know,  that 
whoever  belongs  to  one  or  the  other  of  these  classes,  I  do  not 
indeed  say  of  him  that  it  would  have  been  good  for  him  had  he 
never  been  born ;  but  I  do  say  that  there  is  the  possibility  of 
tins  being  the-«ase.  Such  a  one  has  reason  to  fear  that  the  awful 
inscription  on  the  tombstone  of  Judas  may  at  lepgth  be  transferred 
to  his. 

0  my  friends,  when  I  think  that  perhaps  it  would  have  been 
good  had  your  cradle  been  your  coffin ;  that  the  nurse  who  laid 
you  in  your  mother's  arms,  was  perhaps  depositing  there  an  in- 
fernal firebrand;  that  your  parents  had  greater  reason  for 
greeting  the  hour  of  your  birth  with  weeping  than  with  rejoic- 
ing; that  the  sacred  water  of  baptism  was  wasted  upon  you, 
and  was  sprinkled,  as  it  were,  in  derision  over  you;  and  that 
while  in  joyful  hope,  your  first  festival  was  celebrated,  your 
names  instead  of  being  recorded  in  the  Book  of  Life,  were  in- 
serted in  that  of  Death — when  I  imagine  all  tins  to  myself,  the 
blood  in  my  veins  is  ready  to  freeze  with  horror.  I  do  not 
indeed  say  that  such  will  actually  be  the  case  with  any  of  my 
readers ;  but  that  it  is  possible  it  had  been  good  if  you  had  never 
been  born.  And  does  not  your  having  cause  for  the  belief  in 
such  a  possibility  hurl  you,  as  with  a  thunderbolt  to  the  ground  ? 

Yes,  you  tremble ;  you  are  horrified.  At  least  let  me  take  it 
for  granted  that  you  are  so.  For.  if  it  were  otherwise,  and  you 
could  yawn  amid  such  startling  truths,  or  even  laugh  at  them 
in  Satanic  defiance ;  really,  there  would  not  require  much  more 
to  authorize  me  to  tell  you,  in  the  name  of  God,  that  "  it  had 
been  good  for  such  a  one  that  he  had  never  been  born."  But 
God  forbid  that  I  should  exceed  the  limits  of  my  duty !  I  am 
not  empowered  to  trouble  the  seed  of  Abraham,  or  to  speak  any 
thing  but  comfortably  to  Jerusalem,  however  deeply  degraded. 


THE   WOE   DENOUNCED.  81 

I  know  there  are  those  to  whom  the  sentence  upon  Judas  does 
not '  refer,  although  they  fear  lest  it  should  apply  to  them.  Let 
me  characterize,  in  a  few  brief  traits,  these  individuals,  that  no 
one  may  despair  who  is  justified  in  praising  God  for  his 
mercy. 

I  make  no  reference  here  to  those  who  can  exultingly  say,  with 
Paul,  "I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed;"  for,  being  firmly 
rooted  in  the  life  of  grace,  and  u  sealed  by  the  spirit  of  promise," 
they  would  only  smile  were  I  to  endeavor  to  prove  to  them  that 
the  sentence  in  question  did  not  apply  to  them.  That  which  I 
might  say  to  them  has,  long  before,  been  testified  by  another.  But 
I  address  myself  to  you,  ye  troubled  ones,  who  are  tossed  to 
and  fro  on  the  sea  of  doubts,  and  who  are  still  in  uncertainty 
whether  you  may  bless  the  day  of  your  birth,  or  have  reason  to 
curse  it. 

Be  patient,  my  friends !  I  understand  the  cause  of  your  un- 
happiness.  Neither  the  fact  of  your  feeling  yourselves  desti- 
tute of  faith,  love,  and  strength  to  lead  a  holy  life,  nor  that 
you  daily  stumble  and  feel  defective,  decides  any  thing.  Tins 
state  is  painful  to  you;  but  is  it  not  the  real  cause  of  your 
grief  and  your  greatest  sorrow,  that  it  is  thus  with  you?  Do 
you  desire  any  thing  so  much  as  to  be  able  to  say  with  the  bride 
in  the  Canticles,  "  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his  ?"  And  if, 
as  a  condition  of  this  happiness,  you  were  compelled  to  bear  the 
in  its  most  painful  form,  after  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  openly 
to  confess  your  guilt  before  the  whole  world,  would  you  not  re- 
solve to  do  so  without  hesitation  ?  Would  you  not  sacrifice  that 
which  is  the  dearest  to  you,  in  order  to  be  able  to  assure  your- 
selves that  you  belong  to  Christ,  and  could  rejoice  in  his  mercy  ? 
If  you  reply  in  the  affirmative  to  these  inquiries,  I  will  declare  to 
you,  in  the  name  of  him  who  u  hears  the  cry  of  the  needy,  and 
will  not  despise  their  prayer,"  that  the  woe  pronounced  upon 
Judas  has  no  reference  to  you,  and  that  the  glad  tidings  that  you 
may  bless  the  hour  in  which  you  first  saw  the  light  of  this  world, 
are  for  you. 

0  it  is  good  that  you  have  been  born !  You  are  set  apart  for 
great  things.  You  are  destined  to  serve  the  Lord  God  as  vessels 
of  his  mercy.     He  intends  to  acforn  his  temple  with  you  as  the 

4* 


82  THE    OUTER    COURT. 

mirrors  of  his  glory.  He  desires  to  exhibit  you  in  the  sight  of 
heaven,  earth,  and  hell,  as  proofs  of  what  the  blood  of  the  cross 
is  able  to  accomplish.  He  has  selected  you  to  join  the  choir  of 
those  who  chant  the  mighty  Hallelujah  to  himself  and  the 
Lamb.  When  you  were  born,  kind  angels  stood  around  your 
cradle.  Over  your  head  a  sublime  voice  whispered,  "  I  have 
loved  thee  from  everlasting!"  Your  parents  pressed  in  you  an 
heir  of  heaven  to  their  bosoms.  A  divine  legacy  fell  into  your 
lap  when  the  water  of  baptism  bedewed  your  foreheads.  You 
entered  upon  this  vale  of  tears  only  to  pass  through  it  with 
rapid  steps,  and  then  to  find  your,  abiding  home  in  "  the  Jerusa- 
lem that  is  above."  The  King  of  kings  wrote  your  names  in 
his  Book  of  Life.  The  Righteousness  of  his  Son  was  the  first 
robe  he  threw  around  you;  and  the  last  with  which  he  will 
adorn  you,  will  be  the  radiant  garment  of  heavenly  glorification. 
It  is  well  for  you,  therefore,  that  you  have  been  born.  It  would 
have  been  grievous  if  you  had  been  wanting  in  the  rank  of 
beings;  for  one  voice  les3  would  then  have  resounded  in  the 
vast  jubilee  chorus  at  the  throne  of  G-od,  and  one  pearl  less 
would  have  glittered  in  the  diadem  of  the  heavenly  Prince  of 
Peace.  Therefore,  tin-ice  hail  that  you  exist !  In  spite  of  all  the 
wretchedness  you  may  be  experiencing,  you  have  infinite  reason 
to  bless  the  Lord.  We  heartily  rejoice  at  joining  with  you  in 
praising  him. 

But  you,  who  pass  with  indifference  by  the  cross  of  Immanuel, 
or  even  resist  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  reproves  you  of  sin,  and 
is  desirous  of  directing  you  to  Jesus,  what  shall  I  say  to 
you?  I  can  only  address  you  in  the  words  of  a  well-known 
hymn :  ♦ 

"  Sinner,  0  why  so  thoughtless  grown — 
"Why  in  such  dreadful  haste  to  die  ? 
Daring  to  leap  to  worlds  unknown, 
Heedless  against  thy  God  to  fly. 

"Wilt  thou  despise  eternal  fete, 

Urged  on  by  sin's  fantastic  dreams, 
Madly  attempt  th'  infernal  gate, 

And  force  thy  passage  to  the  flames  ? 


THE    AVAI.K    TO    GEXHSEMARE.  83 

u  Stay,  sinner,  on  the  Gospel  plains  I 

Behold  the  God  of  love  unfold 
The  wonders  of  his  dying  pains, 
Forever  telling,  yet  untold  I" 


X. 

THE   WALK    TO    GETflSEMANE. 

"VVe  return  to  our  narrative  at  a  solemn  moment.  The  Lord 
Jesus  nas  just  instituted  the  sacred  ordinance  of  his  love — the 
Lord's  Supper — and,  according  to  custom  at  the  feast  of  the  pass- 
over,  he  commences  with  his  disciples,  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
the  "  Hallel,"  or  great  song  of  praise,  which  consisted  of  Psalms 
cxv.  to  cxviii.  It  is  the  first  time  that  we  find  our  Saviour  sing- 
ing ;  for  the  original  Greek  word  admits  of  no  other  interpretation. 
The  Lord,  thereby,  forever  consecrates  vocal  music  in  his  Church. 
Singing — this  language  of  the  feelings,  this  exhalation  of  an  ex- 
alted  state  of  mind,  this  pinion  of  an  enraptured  soul — is  heaven's 
valuable  gift  to  earth.  Adopted  into  the  service  of  the  sanctuary, 
how  beneficial  and  blissful  is  its  tendency !  Who  has  not  expe- 
rienced its  power  to  raise  us  high  above  the  foggy  atmosphere  of 
daily  life ;  to  transport  us  so  wondrously,  even  into  the  precincts 
of  heaven;  to  expand  and  melt  the  heart;  to  banish  sorrow,  and 
burst  the  bonds  of  care  ?  And  ft  can  effect  greater  things  than 
When  the  Spirit  from  above  mingles  his  breath  with  it.  A 
thousand  times  has  it  restored  peace  in  the  midst  of  strife, 
banished  Satan,  and  annihilated  his  projects.  Like  a  genial  gale 
of  spring,  it  has  blown  across  the  stiff  and  frozen  plain,  and  has 
caused  stony  hearts  to  melt  like  wrax,  and  rendered  them  arable, 
and  capable  of  receiving  the  seed  of  eternity. 

"We  find  the  Lord  of  glory  singing  with  his  followers.  0,  if 
David,  who  wrote  those  psalms,  could  have  supposed  that  they 
would  experience  the  high  honor  of  being  sung  by  the  gracious 
lips  of  him  who  was  the  supreme  object  of  his  songs  and  the 
sole  hope  of  his  life,  he  would  have  let  the  pen  drop  in  joyful 


84  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

astonishment  from  his  hand.  But  what  a  seal  does  the  Lord 
impress  upon  those  psalms,  as  the  real  effusions  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  by  applying  them  to  himself,  while  thus  singing  them  in 
the  most  solemn  hour  of  his  earthly  course !  Would  he  have 
sung  them,  especially  at  that  moment,  if  they  had  not  contained 
the  pure  words  of  G-od  ?  The  Lord's  singing  them,  therefore,  is 
a  powerful  proof  of  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
In  fact,  we  are  only  treading^  in  his  footsteps  when  we  resign 
ourselves  unhesitatingly  to  this  sacred  word.  And  ought  not 
this  consciousness  greatly  to  encourage  us,  and  to  overthrow 
every  fresh  doubt  that  may  arise  ?  What  happiness  to  have  been 
permitted  to  listen  to  that  peaceful  nocturnal  chant!  Doubt- 
less, the  holy  angels  lay  listening,  with  silent  attention,  in  the 
windows  of  heaven  while  the  human  soul  heard,  in  those 
sounds,  the  cradle — and  inauguration — hymn  of  its  eternal  re- 
demption. 

Millions  in  Israel  had  already  sung  the  great  "Hallel"  after 
the  feast  of  the  passover,  during  the  thousand  years  which  had 
elapsed  since  David — many,  such  as  the  prophets,  and  the  more 
enlightened  among  the  people,  assuredly  with  profound  emotion 
and  zealous  fervor.  But  with  feelings  such  as  those  with  which 
the  Lord  Jesus  sang  it,  no  one  had  ever  joined  in  it ;  for  the  four 
psalms  treated  of  himself,  the  true  paschal  lamb,  and  of  his  priest- 
hood and  mediatorship.  His  sufferings,  conflicts,  and  triumphs, 
first  gave  to  those  psalms  their  full  reality.  The  cxv.  Psalm 
praises  the  blessings  of  divine  grace,  for  which  a  channel  to  our 
sinful  word  was  to  be  opened  by  the  Messiah's  mediation.  In 
Psalm  cxvi.  the  Saviour  himself  lifts  the  vail  from  off  the  horrible 
abyss  of  suffering  to  which  he  was  to  be  delivered  up  for  sinners : 
"  The  Sorrows  of  death  compassed  me,  and  the  pains  of  hell  gat 
hold  upon  me,"  is  its  language.  But  the  psalm  also  praises  the 
glorious  deliverance  which  he  should  experience  after  enduring 
those  agonies — "  Thou  hast  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine 
eyes  from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling.  I  will  walk  before  the 
Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living."  The  cxvii.  Psalm  calls  upon 
the  nations  to  glorify  the  riches  of  divine  grace  with  hallelujahs, 
which  they  were  to  derive  from  the  atonement  of  the  Divine 
High   Priest.      The  cxvii.   Psalm   concentrates  what  had   been 


THE   WALK   TO    GETIISEMANE.  85 

previously  testified — first,  as  regards  the  cross :  "  They  com- 
passed me  about  like  bees ;  they  are  quenched  as  a  fire  among 
thorns.  Thou  hast  thrust  sore  at  me  that  I  might  fall."  Then 
the  Redeemer's  confidence :  "  The  Lord  is  my  strength  and  my 
song.  The  Lord  is  on  my  side,  therefore  will  I  not  fear.  I  shall 
not  die  but  live,  and  declare  the  works  of  the  Lord."  Then  the 
deliverance  :  "  I  will  praise  thee,  for  thou  hast  heard  me,  and 
art  become  my  salvation."  Then  the  redemption  which  resulted 
from  the  offering  up  of  himself:  "  The  voice  of  rejoicing  and  sal- 
vation is  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  righteous.  The  right  hand  of 
the  Lord  is  exalted :  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doeth  valiantly. 
Open  to  me  the  gates  of  righteousness;  I  will  go  into  them 
and  praise  the  Lord.  Tins  gate  of  the  Lord  (that  is  free  of  access), 
into  which  the  righteous  shall  enter."  And,  finally,  the  victorious 
and  all-subduing  power  of  the  kingdom  of  Ins  grace  upon  earth  : 
"  The  stone  which  the  builders  refused,  is  become  the  headstone 
of  the  corner.  This  is  the  Lord's  doing ;  it  is  marvelous  in  our 
eyes." 

These  are  all  features  in  the  portrait  of  the  future  Messiah, 
and  references  to  what  would  befall  him  on  earth,  and  to  the  work 
he  would  accomplish.  And  he,  in  whom  all  this  was  to  be  ful- 
filled, had  now  appeared,  and  his  foot  already  trod  the  soil  of  this 
world.  The  Lord  Jesus  beheld  his  own  image  in  the  mirror  of  the 
words  of  prophecy  generally,  as  well  as  in  these  passover  psalms 
in  particular ;  and  he  sang  the  sacred  verses  with  the  clear  and 
full  consciousness  of  his  position  as  High  Priest,  Redeemer,  and 
Mediator.  After  the  singing  he  went  out  to  the  Mount  of  Olives. 
What  great  things  depended  upon  this  eventful  and  mysterious 
walk  !  We  exclaim,  "  Earth,  which  he  is  about  to  rescue  from  the 
curse,  salute  Ins  feet !  Hell,  against  which  he  is  buckling  on  his 
armor,  tremble !  Heaven,  for  which  he  is  going  forth  to  gain  a 
new  population,  look  down,  and  be  astonished  at  Ins  amazing  un- 
dertaking!" 

He  proceeds  upon  his  path,  and  0  how  much  is  laid  upon 
him  at  that  moment !  The  guilt  of  thousands  of  years,  the  world's 
future — The  salvation  of  millions  !  He  goes  in  order,  in  his  own 
person,  to  plant  the  seed-corn  of  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 
Alas !  whither  should  we  have  been  going  had  he  not  traversed 


86  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

this  path  for  us  ?  Our  lives  would  have  been  a  progress  to  the 
place  of  execution ;  our  future  state  would  have  ended  in  un- 
quenchable fire.  He  knew  this.  That  which  he  undertook  stood 
every  moment,  in  all  its  magnitude,  present  to  his  soul.  But  the 
glorious  result  of  his  undertaking  was  equally  obvious  to  him.  At 
every  step  he  apprehended  himself  as  being  sent  by  the  Father  to 
close  up  the  chasm  which  sin  had  caused  between  God  and  the 
creature,  between  heaven  and  earth. 

The  Saviour  walks  onward  in  the  silence  and  obscurity  of  the 
night,  accompanied  by  his  disciples,  all  of  them  deeply  affected 
by  the  solemn  transactions  which  had  just  taken  place  in  the 
chamber  at  Jerusalem,  and  yet  greatly  cheered  by  the  gracious 
words  which  had  proceeded  from  the  lips  of  their  Divine  Master, 
and  which  sounded  in  their  ears  as  from  the  heavenly  world.  The 
Lord  then  breaks  the  thoughtful  silence,  and  says,  to  the  no  small 
astonishment  of  his  disciples,  "  All  ye  shall  be  offended  because  of 
me  this  night ;  for  it  is  written,  1 1  will  smite  the  shepherd,  and 
the  sheep  of  the  flock  shall  be  scattered.' " — Matt.  xvi.  31.  In 
these  momentous  and  significant  words  our  Lord  indicates  the 
point  of  view  from  which  he  contemplated  his  approaching  suffer- 
ings. He  is  minutely  acquainted  with  the  anguish  to  be  endured. 
"  This  night,"  says  he.  0,  sacred  night,  from  whose  bosom  the 
brightest  morning-star  of  hope  and  consolation  has  risen  upon 
us,  although  with  a  blood-red  light !  The  Lord  regards  his  passion 
as  an  unconditional  necessity.  Had  he  not  viewed  it  as  such,  how 
easy  would  it  have  been  for  him  to  have  withdrawn  himself  from 
it  in  the  darkness  of  the  night !  But  he  voluntarily  yields  himself 
up  to  it ;  for,  while  saying,  "  This  night,"  he  is  on  his  way,  with 
a  firm  step,  to  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  the  first  stage  of  his 
sufferings. 

He  perceives,  most  clearly,  the  end  and  object  of  his  passion  ; 
"for,"  says  he,  "it  is  written,  'I  will  smite  the  shepherd,  and  the 
sheep  of  the  flock  shall  be  scattered  abroad.' "  These  words  are 
taken  from  Zech.  xiii.  7,  where  we  read  as  follows:  'Awake, 
0  sword !  against  my  shepherd,  and  against  the  man  that  is  my 
fellow,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  Smite  "the  shepherd,  and 
the  sheep  shall  be  scattered,  and  I  will  turn  mine  hand  upon 
the  little  ones."    The  Lord  explains  this  passage  by  his  own 


THE   WALK   TO    GETIISEMANE.  87 

words.  Its  chief  import  is,  "  I,  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  will  smite, 
with  the  sword  of  justice,  my  shepherd — the  man  that  is  my  fel- 
low, the  Messiah  ;  and  the  sheep  of  the  flock — his  disciples,  friends, 
and  followers — shall  be  scattered."  "  Thus  it  is  written,"  says  the 
Saviour ;  and  that  which  is  written  in  the  Book  of  God  will  come 
to  pass. 

The  Lord  Jesus  now  says  expressly,  that  this  prophecy  was 
about  to  receive  its  fulfillment  in  him.  He  therefore  represents 
himself  as  smitten  of  God,  and  for  what  cause,  is  sufficiently 
evident  from  other  passages.  He  appeared  in  our  stead  as  suffer- 
ing and  atoning  for  sin.  In  him,  as  Mediator,  was  realized  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  irrevocable  sentence — "  Cursed  is  every  one  that 
continueth  not  in  all  things  that  are  written  in  the  book  of  the  law 
to  do  them,"  for  the  honor  of  God,  the  restoration  of  the  majesty 
of  the  law,  and  our  own  absolution  and  redemption. 

It  is  thus,  and  in  no  other  way,  that  the  subject  must  be  appre- 
hended, or  the  entire  history  of  the  passion  becomes  an  obscure 
labyrinth.  It  must  be  thus,  or  hundreds  of  passages  stand  before 
us  as  inexplicable  enigmas.  It  must,  or  the  horrible  fate  of  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel  sounds  like  a  shrill  discord  through  the  history 
of  mankind,  and  renders  questionable  the  very  existence  of  a  Divine 
Providence  and  government  of  the  world.  Thus  it  must  be,  or  the 
Lord  from  heaven  has  sown  seeds  of  error  instead  of  truth ;  for  he 
said,  u  That  which  is  written  will  now  be  fulfilled  in  me :  '  I  will 
smite  the  Shepherd,'  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts." 

The  Lord  well  knew  what  reason  would  object  to  this;  he 
therefore  said,  "All  ye  shall  be  offended  because  of  me  this 
night."  Reason  mistakes,  and  knows  nothing  of  divine  things, 
until  the  heart  obtains  an  insight,  a  living  insight,  into  its  own 
necessities.  Only  become  as  anxious  for  salvation  as  Zaccheus, 
or  the  thief  on  the  cross — how  different  will  the  words  then 
sound  in  thy  ears,  "  I  will  smite  the  Shepherd."  Thou  wilt 
then  know  that  the  Almighty  must  smite.  The  judge  in  thy 
own  bosom  tells  thee  so,  and  thy  conscience,  aroused  from  its 
deadly  sleep,  testifies  the  same.  Whatever  may  be  told  thee  of 
God's  universal  kindness,  mercy,  and  love,  thou  maintainest 
that  he  must  smite.  So  deeply  and  impressively  is  this  written 
henceforth  in  thy  convictions,  that  even  an  angel  from  heaven 


88  THE  OUTER  COURT. 

co aid  not  persuade  thee  otherwise.  God  is  holy,  just,  and  true ; 
and  thou  a  rebel  against  him,  a  transgressor  in  his  sight.  Thou 
abidest  by  this  position,  and  already  nearest  the  thunder  of  his 
wrath  rolling  over  thy  head ;  and  nothing  in  the  world  can  divest 
thee  of  the  idea  that  a  satisfaction  is  required  before  thou,  as  a 
sinner,  canst  be  saved.  If,  amid  these  feelings  and  convictions, 
thou  hearest  the  words, . "  I  will  smite  the  Shepherd,"  0,  how 
peaceful  and  blissful  is  their  sound!  What  a  happy  change  in 
thy  state !  Thou  seekest  for  the  Shepherd,  who  wa3  smitten  in 
thy  stead,  and  findest  him  in  the  bleeding  Surety  of  Gethsemane, 
on  Gabbatha,  and  on  the  cross.  Thou  cleavest  to  him  with  all 
the  tenacity  of  thy  inmost  reliance,  and  testifiest  to  every  one 
who  will  hear  thee,  that  thou  wouldst  be  destitute  of  comfort  in 
life  and  death,  if  the  Son  of  God  had  not  judicially  suffered  in 
thy  room  and  stead.  Experience  daily  shows  that  the  Gospel 
seems  foolishness  to  them  who  do  not  feel  their  need  of  it ;  that 
it  manifests  itself  to  be  the  power  of  God  to  the  contrite  in 
heart,  and  that  knowledge  of  this  nature  does  not  proceed  from 
the  understanding,  but  solely  from  the  heart,  when  enlightened 
by  the  Holy  Spirit,  under  a  feeling  of  its  guilt.  The  natural  man, 
as  the  Scriptures  assert,  knows  not  the  things  that  are  of  God, 
neither  can  he  understand  them,  because  they  must  be  discerned 
spiritually.  He  that  takes  offense  at  the  vicarious  sacrifice  of 
Christ,  only  makes  it  evident,  that  however  believing  he  may  be 
in  other  respects,  he  at  least  possesses  very  shallow  and  super- 
ficial ideas  of  the  nature  and  culpability  of  sin. 

The  words,  thus  quoted  by  our  Lord,  clearly  manifest  his 
consciousness  of  the  true  meaning  of  his  sufferings.  We  there- 
fore easily  understand  Ins  exclamation,  "  I  have  a  baptism  to  be 
baptized  with,  and  how  am  I  straitened  until  it  be  accom- 
plished;" as  well  as  his  subsequent  agonizing  prayer,  "Father, 
if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me !"  Doubtless,  the 
love  of  the  Father  to  Ms  only-begotten  Son  -never  forsook  him 
for  a  moment.  Jesus  continued  the  object  of  his  supreme  good 
pleasure  and  tenderest  affection.  But  the  experience  and  feeling 
of  his  Father's  love  was  to  be  for  a  time  withdrawn  from  him, 
and  the  consciousness  of  being  forsaken  of  God  was  to  take  its 
place.    He  was  to  descend  into  the  lower  parts  of  the  earth,  and 


THE   WALK   TO    GETHSEMANE.  89 

endure  all  the  fiery  assaults  of  Satan  and  Ins  infernal  hosts; 
and  it  was  at  this  that  he  shuddered  and  trembled.  But  through 
the  gloom  of  these  oppressive  feelings,  the  dawning  rays  of  a 
more  cheering  consciousness  shed  themselves  gloriously  upon 
him — the  consciousness  of  the  triumph  that  awaited  him  after 
the  conflict.  This  the.  Lord  Jesus  also  expresses  in  the 
words,  "But  after  I  am  risen  again,  I  will  go  before  you  into 
Galilee." 

Admire  here,  first,  the  faithfulness  of  the  good  Shepherd.  He 
had  just  told  them  expressly,  that  they  should  all  be  offended 
because  of  him  that  night.  What  tender  forethought  is  here 
manifested!  The  offense  was  now  unable  to  extend  too  far. 
When  the  sufferings  of  their  Master  commenced,  they  were 
able  to  say  to  themselves,  "He  knew  what  would  befall  him, 
and  yet  he  voluntarily  met  his  sufferings.  It  was,  therefore, 
requisite  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  work,  that  he  submitted 
to  them." 

But  the  Lord  informs  them  further,  that  the  Holy  Scriptures 
and  with  them  the  will  and  counsel  of  God,  were  to  be  fulfilled 
in  his  sufferings.  What  a  powerful  support  did  he  thus  afford 
them  against  the  days  of  sorrow — a  support  which  alone  was 
not  able  to  sustain  them,  but  which  nevertheless  secured  their 
faith  from  a  total  shipwreck.  He  told  them,  in  conclusion,  that 
though  the  sheep  of  the  flock  would  be  scattered,  yet  they  would 
continue  his  sheep,  and  not  be  cast  off  because  of  their  unfaith- 
fulness. This  he  stated  to  them  when  informing  them,  that  after 
he  should  come  forth  triumphantly  from  all  his  sufferings,  and 
have  overcome  death  itself,  he  would  again  gather  them  around 
him  in  peace  and  joy.  0  what  comfort  did  they  derive  from 
this,  and  what  encouragement  for  their  faith,  in  expectation  of 
the  hour,  when,  after  being  thus  scattered,  they  should  hear, 
that  he,  who  had  been  so  shamefully  forsaken  by  them,  had 
again  appeared  victorious  over  all  his  foes !  There  was  then  no 
need  for  them  to  be  afraid,  but  they  were  at  liberty  to  resign 
themselves  to  the  delightful  hope  that  he  would  not  reward 
them  according  to  their  deeds,  but  pardon  every  thing,  and 
lovingly  re-assemble  them  around  him.  Thus  did  his  parental 
care  provide  for  them,  not  merely  with  reference  to  the  present, 


00  THE   OUTER  COURT. 

but  also  to  the  future,  and  prepared  the  way  to  prevent  evil 
ensuing,  and  to  bring  them  every  needful  blessing.  0  how 
secure  we  are,  when  once  we  intrust  ourselves  to  his  superintend- 
ence !  It  may,  happen  occasionally,  that  we  may  feel  offended, 
nay,  even  depart  from  him  for  a  time,  and  follow  our  own  ways ; 
but  he  does  not  leave  us  long  to  go  astray.  He  again  seeks  us 
out;  for  with  respect  to  all  his  sheep,  his  words  remain  true, 
"  They  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out 
of  my  hand." 

"But  after  I  am  risen  again,"  says  the  Lord:  he  here  looks 
with  joyful  confidence  across  the  anxious  sea  of  his  approaching 
sufferings,  to  the  subsequent  triumph.  He  feels  assured  that  he 
shall  reach  the  opposite  shore,  where  the  crown  of  victory 
awaits  him.  He  doubtless  called  to  mind  the  ancient  prediction, 
"When  thou  shalt  make  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin,  he  shall 
prolong  his  days."  He  who  knows  how  to  follow  his  steps,  in 
thus  laying  hold  of  the  divine  promise,  has  discovered  the  secret 
how  to  cry  out  with  joy,  "Land!  land!"  in  the  midst  of  the 
surge,  and  to  sing  songs  of  victory  in  the  heat  of  the  conflict 
Let  us  abandon,  therefore,  the  anxious  position  in  which  we  see 
only  what  is  immediately  before  us,  and  are  tossed  about,  like  a 
ball,  by  the  calculations  of  reason.  Rather  let  us  place  our  feet 
upon  the  lofty  and  immutable  rock  of  the  word  and  promises  of 
God.  How  safely  and  pleasantly  may  we  then  abide,  even  when 
the  gloom  of  night  spreads  itself  around  us,  and  the  storm  ani 
tempest  assail  us !  We  are  then  conscious  that  the  clouds,  which 
cause  us  apprehension,  cover  only  a  part  of  our  real  heaven ;  for 
the  distant  horizon  continues  bright ;  and  that  which  is  still  more 
remote,  promises,  after  every  night  of  sorrow,  a  day  in  which  the 
sun  will  no  more  go  down. 

"  But  after  I  am  risen  again,  I  will  go  before  you  into 
Galilee."  Galilee  is  therefore  the  rendezvous,  the  land  of  re- 
union and  meeting.  Once  there,  he  has  no  further  cup  of  agony 
to  drink,  and  his  followers  will  no  more  be  offended  in  him. 
He  is  then  no  longer  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  but  clothed  in  majesty 
and  the  victor's  glory,  he  meets  his  beloved  friends,  and  greets 
them  with  the  salutation  of  peace. 

"  I  will  go  before  you  into  Galilee."      Even  for  us,   there  is  * 


THE   WALK   TO    GETIISEMANE.  91 

something  in  these  words,  if  we  are  able  to  read  between  the 
lines.  "After  I  am  risen  again."  Assuredly,  that  resurrection 
for  which  we  wait,  will  not  tarry — the  final  elevation  of  his 
kingdom  from  its  deep  reproach — the  manifestation  of  him,  on 
whose  head  are  many  crowns,  after  his  long  envelopment  in 
gloom.  Perhaps  the  day  Avill  soon  appear.  When  he  shall 
have  made  his  foes  his  footstool,  have  gathered  his  elect  from 
,  the  four  winds,  and  bound  and  shut  up  Satan  in  the  bottomless 
pit — then  shall  we  also  remove  to  the  Galilee  of  peace  and  joy, 
where  we  shall  behold  him,  face  to  face,  whom,  having  not 
Been,  we  love,  and  shall  greet  him  with  songs  of  rejoicing  and 
rapture. 

But  though  we  may  see  the  dawn  of  this  period  upon  earth, 
yet  we  know  another  Galilee,  whither  he  has  preceded  us, 
and  which  probably  lies  nearer  us  than  the  former.  I  mean 
that  Galilee,  on  the  shores  of  which  so  many  weary  pilgrims 
daily  cast  anchor;  that  Galilee,  where  the  hand  of  Jesus  wipes 
away  the  last  tears  from  the  eyes  of  the  favored  new-comers ; 
that  Galilee,  where  the  song  is  continually  sung  of  "  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain,"  and  of  the  blood  in  which  our  robes  are 
washed  and  made  white.  0  thou  Galilee  above,  thou  land  of 
perfect  union  with  him,  who  is  the  object  of  our  love,  how  does 
the  thought  of  thee  exalt  and  cheer  our  spirits,  during  our 
pilgrimage  through  this  vale  of  tears!  Thou  Galilee  beyond 
the  clouds,  how  blest  is  he,  whom  Jesus  has  preceded,  in  order 
to  prepare  a  place  for  him  on  thy  ever  verdant  vales  and  sunny 
hills! 

"  Blest,  indeed,"  you  respond,-  "  if  we  were  only  sure  of  landing 
there  at  last."  If  you  are  not  yet  sure  of  it,  my  readers,  delay 
not  to  let  the  Lord  assure  you  of  it.  Every  where,  and  at  every 
hour,  he  inclines  his  ear  to  you,  and  especially  where  he  spreads 
his  sacred  table  for  you.  There,  also,  is  a  kind  of  Galilee, 
whither  he  has  preceded  you,  in  order  to  meet  with  and  bless 
you.  Ah,  he  already  waits  for  you  with  his  mysterious  elements 
of  bread  and  wine*.  His  word  informs  you  that  you  shall  also 
see  him  face  to  face,  eventually ;  and  he  is  willing  now  to  favor 
you  with  a  foretaste  of  this  vision.  Draw  near,  therefore,  and 
receive  grace  for  grace  out  of  Ins  fullness ;  be  blissfully  assured  of 


92  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

his  presence,  and  of  his  willingness  to  take  you  eventually  to  his 
heavenly  home,  where  there  is  fullness  of  joy,  and  where  there 
are  pleasures  for  evermore. 


XL 
THE    CONVERSE   BY   THE   WAY. 

The  apostle  casts  a  profound  look  into  the  heart  of  Jesus,  when 
he  testifies  concerning  him,  that  "  For  the  joy  which  was  set 
before  him,  he  endured  the  cross,  and  despised  the  shame." — 
(Heb.  xii.  2.) 

In  our  previous  meditation,  we  saw  the  Lord,  on  that  eventful 
night,  when  his  sufferings  commenced,  courageously  leaving  Jeru- 
salem, after  singing  the  song  of  praise.  What  was  it  that  enabled 
him  to  tread  the  path  of  suffering  so  serenely,  except  the  joy  which 
he  had  thus  in  prospect? 

Think  of  the  situation  in  which  the  Saviour  was  placed.  It 
may  possibly  have  happened  to  some  of  my  readers,  that  the  ap- 
prehension of  some  great  calamity  suddenly  presented  itself  to 
their  minds,  as  vividly  as  if  they  were  already  realizing  it.  Thus 
it  was  also,  that  all  the  horrors  which  the  Saviour  was  about  to 
experience,  appeared .  to  him  in  clearer  outlines  than  any  one  ever 
regarded  the  future,  and  that  not  merely  in  the  light  of  proba- 
bility, but  of  certainty.  But  while  in  such  seasons  of  painful  anti- 
cipation, our  minds  and  spirits  are  overwhelmed,  the  Lord  on  the 
way  to  Gethsemane,  felt  his  heart  enlarged;  and  through  the 
gloomy  visions  which  passed  before  him,  found  his  way  to  the 
sunny  height  of  perfect  and  joyful  composure,  while  regarding  the 
joy  which  afterward  awaited  him. 

We  left  the  Lord  Jesus  proceeding  to  the  lonely  garden,  to 
which  he  was  wont  to  resort,  in  the  darkness  and  stillness  of  the 
night.  His  mind  is  occupied  with  the  thought  of  his  approach- 
ing death.  His  followers  press  more  closely  around  him,  as  is 
usually  the  case  when  the  moment  of  separation  is  at  hand,  and 


THE   CONVERSE   BY   THE  WAT.  93 

the  grief  of  parting  overwhelms  the  oppressed  mind.  Conversa- 
tion becomes  brief  and  monosyllabic,  and  long  pauses  of  entire 
silence  intervene.  Jesus  now  opens  his  mouth.  The  thought  of 
himself  and  his  approaching  sufferings  retires  into  the  background. 
That  which  affects  him  more  deeply  is  his  love  for  and  care  of 
his  flock. 

Addressing  himself  to  Peter,  who  appears  to  be  the  most  griev- 
ed, and  who  clings  to  him  the  closest,  he  says,  while  regarding 
him  with  melancholy  seriousness,  "Simon,  Simon,  behold,  Satan 
hath  desired  to  have  you,  that  he  may  sift  you  as  wneat." — (Luke, 
xxii.  31).  What  language  is  this,  rendered  doubly  appalling  by 
the  darkness,  and  the  circumstances  under  which  it  is  uttered  I 
At  the  very  moment  when  the  disciples  are  to  be  deprived  of 
their  only  help  and  shield,  they  are  informed  of  the  approach  of 
the  most  dreadful  of  enemies.  The  Lord  expresses  himself 
strangely,  and  in  a  manner  calculated  to  excite  the  greatest 
astonishment.  "  Satan,"  says  he,  "  hath  desired  to  have  you" — 
that  is,  he  has  challenged  you,  laid  claim  to  you,  and  begged 
to  have  you,  that  he  might  manifest  his  power  in  you,  in  order 
to  prove  that  your  goodness  is  naught,  and  your  conversion  only 
specious  and  deceptive.  And  you  know  that  the  Lord  occasion- 
ally permits  the  Wicked  One  to  try  his  power  to  tempt  the  re- 
deemed to  a  certain  point.  He  does  so,  in  order  to  prove  to  the 
infernal  spirits  the  invincibility  of  those  who  confide  themselves 
to  him,  and  thereby  to  glorify  his  name ;  and  also,  that  he  may 
purify  his  children  as  gold  in  such  a  furnace  of  temptation,  and 
draw  those,  who  live  no  longer  to  themselves,  deeper  into  the  fel- 
lowship of  his  life. 

It  was  an  ordeal  of  tins  kind  to  which  the  disciples  were  now 
to  be  subjected.  The  murderer  from  the  beginning  had  wagered, 
so  to  speak,  that  if  liberty  were  given  him,  he  would  cause  their 
entire  apostasy,  the  weapons  for  which  he  expected  to  find  in  the 
infinite  abasement  and  disgrace,  which  their  Master  was  about  to 
experience.  But  the  latter  is  aware  of  the  horrible  design.  He 
already  sees  the  infernal  vulture  wheeling  round -the  heads  of  his 
followers.  He  dares  not  conceal  it  from  them,  lest  the  assault 
should  take  them  by  surprise ;  and  he  therefore  says  to  them  em- 
phatically, fixing  his  eye  especially  upon  Simon,  whom  the  adver- 


94  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

sary  had  principally  in  view,   "  Simon,  Simon,  behold,  Satan  hath 
desired  to  have  you,  that  he  may  sift  you  as  wheat." 

They  are  now  aware  of  the  adversary's  design.  0  that  they 
would  take  every  syllable  of  this  address  to  heart !  Warning  and 
comfort  are  here  wonderfully  mingled.  "  Like  wheat,"  says  he, 
"  would  they  be  sifted  " — an  operation  which,  as  is  well  known, 
only  scatters  the  chaff,  while  the  noble  grain  remains.  The 
result,  therefore,  is  salutary.  It  will  only  be  a  cleansing  and 
purifying — certainly  not  according  to  the  devil's  plan  and  design, 
but  wholly  tnrough  the  intervention  of  divine  grace.  Those 
who  are  thus  sifted  overcome  indeed,  but  only  after  being  made 
painfully  conscious  of  their  own  weakness ;  and  hence  they  know 
more  assuredly  to  whom  their  victor's  crown  in  reality  belongs. 

But  let  us  listen  to  the  Lord  Jesus  further.  He  displays  to  us, 
still  more  deeply,  the  greatness  of  his  affection.  After  uttering 
the  appalling  warning  just  mentioned,  he  looks  kindly  at  his  disci- 
ples, and,  as  if  he  would  encourage  them,  he  says  to  Simon,  "But 
I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not."  0  where  is  there 
a  faithful  friend  and  guardian  to  be  compared  to  him  ?  The  Gos- 
pel narrative  often  conducts  us  to  the  scene  of  his  acts  and  mira- 
cles, and  not  unfrequently  removes  the  vail  from  his  more  quiet 
converse  with  his  beloved  disciples,  and  reveals  to  us  the  sacred 
spots  where  he  exercised  his  priestly  office ;  but  here  it  favors  us 
with  a  look  into  the  solitude  of  his  closet.  Scarcely  was  the  Lord 
aware  of  the  intended  assault,  especially  upon  Peter,  than  he  sought 
retirement,  and  in  prayer,  commended  the  endangered  disciple  to 
the  protection  and  preservation  of  his  heavenly  Father.  And  the 
object  of  his  prayer  was,  that  Simon's  faith  might  not  fail  in  the 
storm  of  temptation. 

Do  not,   however,  suppose  that  Simon  alone  was  privileged^ 
above  other  believers,  in  being  the  object  of  such  affectionate  | 
solicitude.     Listen  only  to  the  Saviour's  intercessory  prayer,  in ! 
John,  xvii.,  and  you  will  be  convinced  of  the  contrary.     Hear 
him  exclaim,    "Holy  Father,   keep,   through  thine   own  name, 
those  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  that  they  may  be  one,  as  we 
are."     "  I  pray  not  that  thou  should  take  them  out  of  the  world, 
but  that  thou  should  keep  them  from  the  evil."     "I  in  them, 
and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one ;  and  that 


THE   CONYERSE   BY   THE   WAY.  95 

the  world  may  know  that  thou  hast  sent  me,  and  hast  loved 
them,  as  thou  hast  loved  me."  Think  not  that  these  sublime 
words  have  reference  only  to  our  Lord's  immediate  disciples; 
for,  listen  further — "Neither  pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for 
them  also  which  shall  believe  on  me  through  their  word.  That 
they  all  may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in 
thee" 

Thus  hath  the  faith,  which  the  Holy  Spirit  produces  in  us,  a 
pledge  of  endurance  in  our  Lord's  intercession.  It  may  be 
assaulted,  tried,  and  shaken,  but  can  not  be  extinguished  or  an- 
nihilated. Simon  was  given  to  know  this,  in  order  that  he 
might  be  in  possession  of  a  sufficient  weapon  when  assailed. 
But  in  case  of  his  succumbing,  this  consciousness  was  to  serve 
him  as  a  staff,  by  means  of  which  he  might  successfully  leap 
over  the  abyss  of  despair. 

"I  have  prayed  for  thee,"  says  our  Lord,  "that  thy  faith  fail 
not."  He  knows  that  Peter  will  fall.  He  already  sees  in  him 
the  faithless  disciple  who  denied  his  Master;  and  yet  he  feels 
toward  him  only  like  a  tender  mother,  in  seeing  her  darling 
child  in  danger.  The  Saviour's  chief  care  is  lest  Simon  should 
despair  after  his  fall;  and  that,  at  the  proper  time,  he  should 
take  courage  to  return  to  him.  Hence,  he  says,  with  the 
kindest  forethought,  "  And  when  thou  art  converted,  strengthen 
thy  brethren."  After  thy  grievous  fall,  the  Lord  herewith 
permits  thee  to  return.  After  thy  unfaithfulness,  thou  mayest 
again  take  comfort  in  thy  Good  Shepherd,  and  regain  his 
flock.  Nay,  thou  shalt  be  still  further  empowered,  for  when 
thou  hast  returned  to  him,  thou  shalt  strengthen  thy  brethren; 
thou  shalt  continue  his  apostle,  and,  in  future,  feed  his  lambs. 

But  Simon  does  not  appreciate  the  compassion  shown  by  our 
Lord.  At  the  moment,  he  is  unconscious  of  the  tenderness  which 
dictated  his  words*  he  has  no  idea  what  they  mean.  He  thinks 
be  will  never  need  a  second  conversion;  for,  in  that  case,  he 
must  first  have  apostatized,  and  says  to  himself,  "the  Master 
shall  never  have  cause  to  think  me  an  apostate."  But  though 
his  Lord's  words  may,  for  a  time,  lie  slumbering  in  his  memory, 
the  day  will  come  when  they  will  awake  and  prove  an  invaluable 
treasure.     The  Saviour  himself  is  not  so  bent  upon  seeing  the 


96  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

immediate  effect  of  his  words  as  we  are.  He  possesses  patience, 
and  knows  that  every  tree  produces  its  fruit  "in  its  season." 

"  When  thou  art  converted,  strengthen  thy  brethren."  Scarcely 
are  we  able  to  cease  listening  to  these  words.  It  almost  seems 
as  if  Simon  would  only  become  a  real  apostle  after  his  fall. 
And  such  was  really  the  case;  for  otherwise  God  would  not 
have  permitted  it.  The  first  and  essential  quality  of  a  herald  of 
the  Gospel  is  ever  a  thoroughly  broken  and  contrite  heart.  For 
it  is  only  after  having  obtained  mercy  as  guilty  criminals,  that 
we  are  in  a  position  to  "strengthen  the  brethren."  After  having 
ourselves  vitally  experienced  that  without  Christ  we  can  do  noth- 
ing, but  every  thing  with  him,  we  then  become  real  evangelists, 
who  no  longer  lay  intolerable  burdens  upon  the  people,  which  we 
refuse  to  touch  with  a  little  finger,  but  meek  and  gentle  like  him, 
who  came  not  to  "  break  the  bruised  reed,  or  quench  the  smoking 
flax,"  but  to  "  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,"  and  to  "  strengthen  the 
feeble  knees." 

Simon  does  not  enter  into  the  spirit  of  our  Lord's  words. 
"Lord,"  he  exclaims  almost  angrily,  as  if  some  false  imputation 
had  been  cast  upon  him,  "  though  all  men  should  be  offended  be- 
cause of  thee,  yet  will  I  never  be  offended.  I  am  ready  to  go 
with  thee  to  prison  and  to  death."  How  excellent,  and  yet  how 
full  of  self-confidence  !  Nevertheless,  a  zeal  for  his  Master  flames 
forth  from  him,  which  I  can  only  wish  pervaded  us  likewise.  No 
self-estimation  is  more  tolerable  and  pardonable  than  that  which 
is  founded  upon  such  a  zeal  for  the  Saviour.  0  what  were 
Peter's  feelings  during  this  nocturnal  walk !  How  they  warmed, 
glowed,  and  boiled  within  him !  He  had  never  before  felt  how 
much  he  loved  his  Master  than  just  now,  when  the  hour  of 
parting  approached.  And  at  the  very  moment  when  his  feel- 
ings were  the  most  excited,  he  hears  his  Master  express  his  fears 
lest  he  should  prove  unfaithful  to  him.  "Wnat?" — thinks  he — 
"That  is  surely  an  impossibility.  Rabbi,  do  not  mistake  thy 
disciple.  Not  even  bonds  or  death  shall  divide  me  from  thee." 
A  holy  earnestness  dictated  these  words ;  but  ah !  he  promised  too 
much! 

"  How  so  ?" — you  inquire  with  astonishment.  "  Had  not  Jesus 
prayed  for  him,  that  his  faith  might  not  fail?"    Assuredly;  and 


THE   CONVERSE   BY   THE   WAT.  97 

had  Peter  founded  his  confidence  on  this,  he  might  have  vowed 
unshaken  fidelity  even  unto  death.  But  Simon  vaunted  himself 
on  his  own  strength,  and  meant  to  Bey,  "  My  love  is  a  pledge  to 
thee  that  I  will  not  deny  thee;"  and  this  was  just  his  misfortune. 
"  The  heart  of  man  is  deceitful  above  all  things ;"  and  he  who 
depends  on  sensations  and  feelings  leans  upon  rotten  supports. 
However  spiritually  rich  and  strong  we  may  believe  ourselves  to 
be,  let  us  never  promise  any  thing  in  self-dependence,  nor  ever 
plant  our  feet  upon  the  waters  until  the  Lord  calls  to  us  to  come, 
and  stretches  out  his  helping  hand  toward  us.  But  he  who  rests 
on  the  strong  arm  of  Immanuel,  and  seeks  strength  from  him,  may 
say  more  boldly  still  than  Simon,  "  Lord,  1  am  ready  to  go  with 
thee,  both  to  prison  and  to  death!"  The  Lord  will  not  put  his 
faith  to  shame,  but  be  a*  strong  refuge  for  him  in  the  midst  of 
the  storm. 

Scarcely  had  Simon,  in  all  simplicity,  uttered  his  heroic  asser- 
tion, than  he  receives  a  second  warning  from  his  Master's  lips. 
The  Lord  now  informs  him  plainly  what  threatens  him :  "  I  tell 
thee,  Peter,  the  cock  shall  not  crow  this  day  before  thou  shalt  thrice 
deny  that  thou  knowest  me."  What  an  alarm  do  these  words 
sound  in  Simon's  soul !  But  the  latter,  in  the  warmth  of  his  affec- 
tion, repulses  it.  "  Be  not  afraid  of  that,"  thinks  he,  "  Thy  dis- 
ciple will  not  deny  thee ;  he  will  die  with  thee,  if  necessary,  but 
will  never  deny  thee." 

u  The  Lord  foresaw  that  he  would  not  think  otherwise ;  then 
why  give  him  the  warning  ?"  It  was  directed  more  to  the  res- 
toration of  the  fallen,  than  to  the  invigoration  of  the  combatant. 
After  Peter  had  denied  his  Master,  he  could  say  to  himself, 
u  He  told  me  beforehand  what  would  occur.  He  saw  it  coming, 
and  warned  me.  Although  he  perceived  that  I  rejected  his 
warning,  yet  he  did  not  reject  me,  but  spoke  kindly  and  gra- 
ciously to  me  as  before."  It  was  thus  he  was  able  to  converse 
with  himself,  and  in  due  time,  to  recover  and  encourage  himself 
by  the  remembrance  of  his  Master's  words.  The  Lord  appointed 
the  cock  to  incite  him  to  repentance,  and  by  his  morning  call, 
at  the  proper  time,  to  bring  the  fallen  man  again  to  himself,  and 
cause  him  to  shed  tears  of  contrition.  Thus  the  Saviour's  affec- 
tionate solicitude  extended  far  beyond  the  temptation  and  the 

5 


98  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

conflict;  and  prepared,  beforehand,  a  remedy  for  the  wounds 
occasioned  by  the  fall  and  defeat.  0  with  how  much  reason 
may  he  .say,  "  As  one  whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  I 
comfort  thee ;"  and  how  much  occasion  have  we  to  exclaim,  on 
thus  looking  into  the  depth  of  his  affection,  "  His  love  is  stronger 
than  death!" 

After  the  Lord  had  finished  speaking  to  Simon,  and  arranged 
every  thing  for  the  restoration  of  the  zealous  disciple,  in  the 
season  of  contrition  and  weeping,  he  turns  to  the  disciples  in 
general.  They  had  now  finished  their  years  of  tuition,  and  the 
time  was  at  hand  when  they  were  to  let  their  light  shine  in  the 
darkness  of  this  world,  and  in  the  midst  of  storm  and  pressure, 
tumult  and  strife,  to  unfurl  the  banner  of  the  cross  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth.  Jesus  is  now  going  to  tell  them  so ;  and 
he  does  it  in  such  a  kind,  careful,  tender,  and  affectionate  man- 
ner, as  to  make  one's  heart  rejoice.  "  He  said  unto  them, 
when  I  sent  you  without  purse,  and  scrip,  and  shoes,  lacked  ye 
any  thing?"  The  disciples  can  not  call  to  mind  that  they  had 
ever  been  in  want,  and  must  cheerfully  confess  it  to  their  Mas- 
ter's honor,  by  saying,  "Lord,  never!"  The  Lord  had  acted 
toward  them  as  he  generally  acts  toward  his  children  whom,  in 
the  time  of  their  first  love,  he  leads  very  gently,  and  with  paren- 
tal care  and  kindness.  Not  only  what  they  desire  is  granted 
them,  but  even  the  manner  in  which  they  desire  it;  the  inten- 
tion being  that  they  may  thus  accustom  themselves  to  him,  and 
may  receive  an  indelible  impression  of  the  loveliness  of  his 
peaceful  kingdom  during  their  future  journey  through  life,  as 
well  as  to  divest  them  of  every  doubt  of  their  being  really  ac- 
cepted and  sharing  in  his  affections. 

It  might  be  thought  that  after  this  declaration  of  his  disciples 
our  Lord  would  say,  "Be  not  careful,  therefore,  in  future,  for 
such  will  always  be  the  case."  Instead  of  which,  he  tells  them 
just  the  reverse,  and  that  in  future  they  would  not  unfrequently 
find  it  otherwise.  "But  now,"  says  he,  with  reference  to  the 
whole  of  their  future  course  of  life,  "he  that  hath  a  purse,  let 
him  take  it,  and  likewise  his  scrip.  But  he  that  hath  none — 
neither  purse  nor  scrip — let  him  sell  his  garment  and  buy  a 
sword." 


THE   CONVERSE   BY   THE   WAY.  99 

How  are  these  words  to  be  understood?  Generally  speak- 
ing, they  announce  to  the  disciples,  that  conflict,  danger,  dis- 
tress, and  manifold  trials  awaited  them,  for  which  they  must 
timely  prepare ;  but  that  they  might  then  firmly  confide  in  him, 
whom  they  had  ever  found  a  faithful  friend  in  time  of  need. 
At  the  same  time,  he  gives  them  clearly  to  understand  that  hence- 
forth they  must  not  rest  too  confidently  on  the  same  obvious  and 
wondrous  guidance  winch  they  had  hitherto  experienced,  be- 
cause their  life  would  in  future  partake  more  of  the  common 
course  of  human  affairs,  and  that  the  direct  interposition,  by 
means  of  which  the  hand  of  eternal  love  had  hitherto  sustained 
and  provided  for  them,  would  give  place  to  a  more  indirect 
divine  aid,  for  which  faith  would  be  required.  It  would  then 
be  necessary,  besides  prayer  and  looking  up  to  heaven,  to  apply 
the  ordinary  means  of  provision,  defense,  and  aid.  Let  him 
who  had  a  purse  and  a  scrip  not  cast  them  away,  but  take  them, 
and  make  use  of  them.  Manly  resolution,  foresight,  and  pru- 
dent calculation  are  no  longer  to  be  despised,  but  to  be  practiced 
and  employed.  Nay,  he  that  had  no  sword  ought  to  sell  his 
garment  and  buy  one. 

Perhaps  you  suppose  that  by  the  latter  our  Lord  meant  a 
spiritual  sword,  the  sword  of  the  Word,  or  of  faith.  ISTo,  my 
readers,  the  Lord  thinks  as  little  of  spiritual  weapons,  when  he 
mentions  the  sword,  as  of  spiritual  traveling  equipments  when  he 
speaks  of  the  purse  and  the  scrip.  Nor  does  he  intend  that  his 
disciples  should  provide  themselves  with  swords  in  the  literal 
sense  of  the  words.  His  language  is  allegorical,  and  its  meaning 
is,  "  Your  future  course  and  calling  will  lead  you  into  situations 
and  circumstances  in  which  you  will  have  to  bear  your  souls  in 
your  hands,  and  to  strive  with  firmness  and  resolution  for  your 
liberties  and  lives." 

But  then,  as  if  the  Lord  had  intended  to  say,  "Be  not 
astonished  at  that  which  I  have  just  told  you,  for  the  disciple  is 
not  above  his  Master,  and  what  is  hostile  to  me,  will  also  be  so 
to  you:"  he  reminds  them  that  his  own  path  would  terminate 
in  ignominy  and  suffering :  "  For  I  say  unto  you,  that  this  that 
is  written  of  me,  must  yet  be  accomplished  in  me,  '  and  he  was 
reckoned  among  the  transgressors,'  for  the  things  concerning  me 


100  THE   OUTER   COURT. 

have  an  end."  The  Lord  here  refers  to  Isaiah,  liii,  particularly 
to  the  12th  verse  of  that  chapter,  and  expressly  testifies  that 
what  is  written  there  of  Jehovah's  servant, — that  he  should  bear 
the  sin  of  many,  make  intercession  for  the  transgressors,  and 
by  his  obedience  and  vicarious  sacrifice,  justify  and  eter- 
nally redeem  his  people — is  said  of  himself.  He  thus  dispels 
every  doubt  respecting  the  only  correct  interpretation  of  that 
portion  of  Scripture.  It  treats  of  him,  his  person,  work,  and 
kingdom.  He  also  affords  his  disciples  a  strong  light  upon  the 
mysterious  obscurity  of  his  approaching  passion;  and,  finally, 
points  out  to  them  that  the  way  to  the  crown  is  by  the  cross, 
and  that  his  people  ought  scarcely  to  expect  a  better  fate,  in  this 
evil  world,  than  himself,  who  would  have  to  endure  the  accursed 
death  of  the  cross,  and  to  be  numbered  with  transgressors,  and 
accounted  and  rejected  by  the  world  as  the  ofFscouring  of  all 
things. 

But  what  does  our  Lord  mean  by  the  words  which  imme- 
diately follow — "For  the  things  concerning  me  have  an  end?" 
Certainly  not  what  he  had  intended  to  convey  in  the  words, 
"  This  that  is  written  must  yet  be  accomplished  in  me."  The 
Lord  there  unmistakably  refers  to  the  warning  previously  given 
to  his  disciples;  and  the  import  of  his  language  is  threefold. 
He  intends  to  say,  in  the  first  place,  "  You  must  not  arm  your- 
selves on  my  account,  nor  in  my  defense ;  for,  as  the  Lamb  of 
God,  slain  from  the  foundations  of  the  world,  I  must  patiently 
resign  myself  to  the  appointed  sufferings,  winch  are  indispen- 
sable for  your  reconciliation  to  God."  Next,  "The  measure  of 
that  agony  on  which  your  redemption  depends  is  exhausted  by 
my  passion.  You  may,  therefore,  boldly  go  forward,  as  being 
by  one  offering  forever  perfected."  And,  lastly,  "  Whatever 
you  may  have  to  suffer  in  future  has  nothing  to  do  with  your 
reconciliation  to  God,  since  that  which  had  to  be  endured  to 
atone  for  sin  and  to  extinguish  guilt,  is  laid  upon  and, has  an 
end  in  me.  If  you  suffer,  it  is  only  for  your  purification,  and 
while  it  does  not  become  me,  it  is  befitting  for  you  to  defend 
your  lives  and  preserve  them  for  my  service,  for  the  brethren, 
and,  in  case  of  need,  to  protect  them  by  ah  legitimate  means." 

Such  was  our  Lord's  meaning,  which,  however,  the  disciples 


THE   CONVERSE   BY   THE   WAT.  101 

do  not  comprehend,  but  explain  it  as  a  call  upon  them  to  pro- 
tect him  by  force  against  his  enemies,  as  Peter  actually  endeav- 
ored to  do  in  the  sequel.  Under  this  idea,  they  show  him 
the  swords,  with  which  two  of  them,  including  Simon,  were 
armed,  as  was  customary  with  wandering  Galileans,  and 
childishly,  though  with  the  best  intention,  say,  "Lord,  behold, 
here  are  two  swords  1"  "It  is  enough,"  rejoined  the  Saviour, 
breaking  off  mournfully — as  if  he  had  said,  "Let  us  leave  the 
matter  for  the  present;  you  will  better  understand  my  meaning 
in  the  sequel." 


THE    HOLY   PLACE, 


XII. 

GETHSEMANE— CONFLICT  AND  VICTORY. 

It  is  night.  The  Lord  has  left  Jerusalem  with  his  eleven  con- 
fidential followers,  fully  aware  of  what  awaits  him.  In  deeply- 
affecting  converse  he  descends  with  them  into  the  dark  vale  of 
cypresses,  where  once,  during  the  reign  of  the  kings,  the  fire 
blazed,  in  which  the  abominations  of  idolatry  were  consumed  to 
the  honor  of  Jehovah.  Here  he  crosses  the  brook  Keclron, 
over  which  his  royal  ancestor,  King  David,  when  fleeing  from 
his  son  Absalom,  passed  barefoot  and  in  sackcloth,  deeply 
bowed  down  by  his  own  guilt  and  that  of  his  people.  Affected 
by  momentous  recollections,  and  sunk  in  the  contemplation  of 
expressive  types  and  shadows,  the  Saviour  arrives  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  garden  of  Gethsemane  (the  oil-press)  at  the  foot  of 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  where  ancient  gigantic  olive-trees,  to  this 
day,  point  out  to  the  pious  pilgrim  the  very  spot  where  the 
Lord  of  Glory  wept  over  the  misery  of  the  human  race,  and 
prayed  and  agonized  for  their  redemption.  We  know  that  the 
Lord  frequently  retired  to  the  solitude  of  that  peaceful  inclosure, 
after  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day,  in  order,  by  sacred  con- 
verse with  his  heavenly  Father,  to  strengthen  himself  anew  for 
his  great  work.  Luke  expressly  remarks  that  he  went  "a? 
he  was  wont,"  to  the  Mount  of  Olives,  but  with  feelings,  sucl? 
as  on  this  occasion  he  %had  never  before  entered  that  silen/ 
retreat  . 


GETIISEMANE CONFLICT   AM)   VICTORY.  103 

The  song  of  praise,  with  which  he  had  left  the  friendly 
chamber  at  Jerusalem  with  his  disciples,  had  long  been  ended. 
The  conversation  by  the  way  seems,  according  to  the  conclud- 
ing words,  "It  is  enough!"  to  have  assumed  a  more  aphoristic 
and  monosyllabic  character  than  before.  Longer  pauses  oc- 
curred. The  Lord's  solemnity  increased  the  nearer  they  ap- 
proached the  end  of  their  night-wandering;  and  it  was  evident 
that  his  soul  became  increasingly  oppressed.  Every  one  per- 
I  the  alteration  in  the  Master's  feelings ;  and,  therefore,  it 
did  not  seem  strange  to  the  disciples  that,  on  arriving  at  the 
garden-gate,  he  should  say  to  them,  with  deep  emotion,  "  Sit  ye 
here,  Avhile  I  go  and  pray  yonder."  In  the  mildest  possible 
form,  he  announces  to  those  of  his  disciples  who  were  to  remain 
at  a  distance  from  the  mysterious  scene,  the  events  which 
awaited  him.  With  true  parental  kindness  he  seeks  to  prevent 
their  being  too  much  alarmed.  uHe  would  go  yonder  and 
pray."  It  was  prayer  for  which  he  was  preparing  himself; 
but  what  a  prayer !  How  clearly  does  he  make  it  evident,  by 
the  preparatory  measures  he  takes,  that  he  regards,  and  wishes 
the  conflict  he  is  about  to  enter  upon  to  be  regarded,  not  as 
any  thing  arising  from  within  him,  but  as  breaking  in  upon  him 
from  without!  That  winch  awaits  him  presents  itself  to  him 
as  impending  over  him.  He  sees  it  like  a  thunder-cloud  brood- 
ing over  his  head. 

The  disciples,  obedient  to  their  Master's  dictate,  seat  them- 
selves at  the  entrance  of  the  inclosure,  while  he  himself,  after 
beckoning  to  Peter,  John,  and  James,  his  most  confidential 
friends,  to  follow  him,  goes  before  them  deeper  into  the  interior 
of  the  garden.  It  is  of  importance  to  him,  for  the  sake  of  his 
future  Church,  to  have  eye-witnesses  of  that  solemn  scene.  He 
is  also  incited  to  take  the  three  disciples  with  him,  by  the  purely 
human  feeling  of  the  need  of  affectionate  and  comforting  fellow- 
ship in  his  approaching  conflict.  How  beneficial  it  is,  in 
seasons  of  trial,  to  be  surrounded  by  like-minded  friends,  who 
watch  and  pray  with  us,  and  impart  to  us  valuable  encourage- 
ment from  the  Word  of  God  and  their  own  spiritual  experience ! 
How  the  conflict  may  thus  be  rendered  easy  and  sweet;  while 
solitude  is  wont  to  increase  the  feeling  of  horror,  and  to  open 


104  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

the  gates  of  imagination  to  terrific  ideas,  in  addition  to  the 
distress  which  really  exists.  Christ  was  not  a  stranger  to  any 
purely  human  feeling  of  necessity.  He  was  made  in  all  things 
like  unto  us,  but  without  sin. 

The  voice  which  resounded  through  the  garden  of  Eden, 
cried  "Adam,  where  art  thou?"  but  Adam  hid  himself 
trembling,  behind  the  trees  of  the  garden.  The  same  voice, 
and  with  a  similar  intention,  is  heard  in  the  garden  of  Gethse- 
mane.  The  second  Adam,  however,  does  not  withdraw  from 
it,  but  proceeds  to  meet  the  High  and  Lofty  One,  who  summons 
him  before  him,  resolutely  exclaiming,  "Here  am  I!"  Let  us 
follow  him  into  the  nocturnal  gloom.  But  what  awe  seizes 
upon  us!  The  beings  we  there  meet  are  well  known  to  us; 
but  how  is  their  appearance  changed!  All  is  enveloped  in 
mysterious  obscurity,  and  the  distress  of  our  hearts  increases 
every  moment  at  the  sight. 

It  is  the  Eternal  Father  himself  who  here  presides;  but 
what  is  left  for  us,  in  his  presence,  except  to  exclaim  with  Job, 
"Behold,  God  is  great,  and  we  know  him  not,  and  darkness  is 
under  his  feet!"  His  only  and  supremely  beloved  Son  appears 
before  him  in  a  position  which  might  melt  the  flinty  rock  to 
pity;  but  compassion  seems  a  stranger  with  him,  who  yet  said 
to  Zion,  "  Though  a  woman  may  forget  her  sucking  child,  yet 
will  I  not  forget  thee!"  We  are  tempted  to  break  out  with 
David  into  the  piteous  cry,  "Hath  God  forgotten  to  be 
gracious,  and  is  his  mercy  clean  gone  forever?"  For  look, 
what  a  scene!  Again  and  again  does  the  Son  of  Love  cast 
himself  on  his  Father's  bosom,  with  ardent  supplication;  but 
his  ear  listens  in  vain  for  a  favorable  Amen!  from  on  high. 
There  is  neither  voice,  nor  response,  nor  attention,  as  if  the 
Eternal  had  in  wrath  retracted  his  words,  "Call  upon  me  in 
the  day  of  trouble;  I  will  deliver  thee,  thou  shalt  glorify 
me !"  and  had  no  longer  a  heart  for  him,  who  lay  in  his  bosom, 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  The  cup  of  horror  does 
not  pass  from  the  trembling  sufferer;  on  the  contrary,  its  con- 
tents become  every  moment  more  bitter.  Louder  sound  the 
complaints  of  the  agonizing  Saviour ;  more  urgent  becomes  his 
prayer:   but  the  Lofty  One  is  silent,  and  heaven  seems  barred 


GETHSEMANE — CONFLICT   AND   VICTORY.  105 

as  with  a  thousand  bolts.  A  holy  angel,  indeed,  at  length  ap- 
proaches ;  but  why  an  angel  only,  instead  of  the  immediate  and 
consoling  vision  of  the  Father?  Does  it  not  almost  seem  like 
irony  that  a  creature  should  be  sent  to  strengthen  the  Creator  ? 
And  what  kind  of  invigoration  was  that  which  was  only  at- 
tended with  an  increase  of  suffering?  For  we  read,  "And  being 
in  an  agony  he  prayed  more  earnestly,  and  his  sweat  was  as  it 
Were  great  drops  of  blood  falling  to  the  ground."  0  the 
horrors  of  that  hour,  when  Jesus,  our  Surety,  appeared  at  the 
bar  of  Divine  Justice,  and  paid  the  penalty  for  us  sinners,  that 
we  might  escape ! 

But  now  let  us  fix  our  eyes  upon  the  suffering  Saviour. 
Scarcely  do  we  know  him  again,  so  enveloped  is  he  in  an  im- 
penetrable covering  of  agonizing  mystery  and  contradiction.  He 
is  the  man  beheld  in  spirit  by  Jeremiah,  and  described  in  the 
words,  "His  heart  is  turned  within  him,  and  all  his  members 
quake."  He  is  the  desolate  individual,  who  testifies  of  himself 
in  the  Psalms,  "I  am  a  worm,  and  no  man."  He  announced 
himself  as  the  Eedeemer  of  the  world,  and  yet,  who  seems  to 
require  deliverance  more  than  he  ?  He  bears  the  sublime  title 
of  "Prince  of  Peace;"  yet  where  ever  was  there  one  more 
destitute  of  peace  than  he  ?  See  how  he  applies  at  one  time  to 
his  Father,  and  at  another  to  mere  human  beings  for  comfort  to 
his  desponding  soul,  and  does  not  find  what  he  seeks,  but  is 
compelled  to  return  disappointed  and  trembling.  His  eye  is 
filled  with  tears,  Ins  lips  with  cries  and  complaints,  while 
Ins  heart  is  crushed  as  in  a  wine-press,  which  forces  a  bloody 
sweat  from  all  his  veins.  Is  this  the  hero,  who  was  once  the 
strength  of  the  weak,  the  comfort  of  the  sorrowful,  the  support 
of  the  feeble,  and  the  shield  of  the  combatant?  Is  this  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel,  who  formerly  was  prepared  for  every  thing, 
and  joyfully  exclaimed,  "  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God ! 
yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart."  I  ask  again,  Who  recognizes, 
in  this  most  wretched  of  men,  the  incarnate  Son  of  G-od ;  and 
who  perceives  in  this  bruised  reed  and  trembling  worm,  the 
"  Fairest  of  the  children  of  men  ?" 

And  now  look  also  at  his  disciples,  who  fill  up  the  measure 
of  these  incomprehensible  things ;  while  their  Master  is  strug- 

5* 


106  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

gling  with  death  in  indescribable  agony,  we  see,  even  the  most 
select  of  the  little  troop,  lying  on  the  ground,  overpowered 
with  sleep.  He  rouses  them,  and  almost  supplicates  them  to 
watch  with  him  only  a  little  while ;  but  they  slumber  again,  as 
if  unconcerned  about  him,  and  leave  their  Master  to  his  suffer- 
ings. One  of  their  number  is  he  who  said,  "  Though  all  should 
be  offended  with  thee,  yet  will  not  I,  though  I  should  die  with 
thee!"  Another  is  the  beloved  disciple,  who  once  lay  on 
Jesus's  breast,  and  the  third  is  he  who  formerly  answered  so 
resolutely  in  the  affirmative  to  the  question,  "  Can  ye  drink  of 
the  cup  of  which  I  shall  drink,  and  be  baptized  with  the 
baptism,  wherewith  I  am  baptized?"  Behold  here  the  little 
dependence  to  be  placed  on  human  fidelity!  One  only  is 
faithful,  and  on  him  alone  can  we,  in  every  case,  rely ;  and  he 
never  slumbers  nor  sleeps,  when  his  people  are  distressed.  But 
how  could  the  disciples  sleep  during  that  awful  scene?  we 
may  well  inquire ;  but  must  we  not  suppose  that  it  was  out  of 
the  natural  course  of  things  ?  Does  not  the  idea  of  an  influence, 
exercised  by  infernal  powers,  force  itself  upon  us?  See  how 
we  are  enveloped  with  horrors  in  Gethsemane ;  like  terrific  and 
feverish  dreams  in  a  waking  state,  or  like  spectral  and  delusive 
phantoms  in  a  delirious  condition. 

But  let  us  contemplate  this  mysterious  conflict  in  Gethsemane 
a  little  more  closely.  Scarely  had  Jesus,  with  Ins  three  disciples, 
penetrated  a  few  paces  into  the  garden,  when  "he  began" — 
therefore  before  their  eyes,  "to  be  very  sorrowful  and  very 
heavy."  In  these  words,  the  history  gives  us  a  hint  that  some- 
thing unheard  of  before,  now  came  over  him.  At  the  same  time, 
it  intimates  that  the  distress  which  seized  him  was  voluntarily 
endured  by  him,  after  due  preparation.  Indescribable  melan- 
choly took  possession  of  Ins  soul;  mysterious  apprehension 
oppressed  his  mind.  Mark,  according  to  his  peculiar  manner  of 
depicting  the  awful  scene,  more  in  detail,  gives  us  a  clearer  idea 
of  the  Saviour's  distress,  by  saying,  "He  began  to  be  sore 
amazed."  He  makes  use  of  a  word  in  the  original  which  im- 
plies a  sudden  and  horrifying  alarm  at  a  terrific  object.  The 
Evangelist  evidently  intends  to  intimate  thereby  that  the  cause 
of  Jesus's  trembling  must  be  sought,  not  in  what  might  be  passing 


GETHSEMANE CONFLICT  AND   VICTORY.  107 

in  his  soul,  but  in  appearances  from  without  which  forced  them- 
selves upon  him;  something  approached  him  which  threatened 
to  rend  his  nerves,  and  the  sight  of  it  to  freeze  the  blood  in  his 
veins. 

Immediately  after  the  first  attack  of  agony,  Jesus  returns  to 
his  three  disciples,  with  words  winch  cast  a  strong  light  upon 
his  inmost  state  of  mind.  He  says,  "My  soul  is  exceeding 
sorrowful,  even  unto  death."  Assuredly  the  import  of  this  com- 
plaint is  not  confined  to  the  idea  expressed  by,  "  I  am  grieved  to 
death,"  or  "sorrow  threatens  my  life;"  although  the  words  cer- 
tainly assert  this  in  the  first  place.  Even  according  to  this 
explanation  of  them,  they  convey  an  idea  of  the  sorrows  of  the 
•mer's  soul,  which  is  the  more  appalling  the  less  exaggera- 
tion we  can  suppose  in  the  words  of  him  who  was  himself  the 
Truth.  The  being  "  sorrowful,  even  unto  death,"  however, 
does  not  indicate  merely  the  measure,  but  also  the  nature  and 
kind  of  suffering.  We  read  in  the  sequel,  that  "  he  was  in  an 
agony,"  or,  as  other  translators  have  it,  "he  wrestled  with  death." 
It  was  in  the  horrors  of  this  state  that  our  Surety  felt  himself 
placed — not  merely  in  the  way  of  beholding  them,  but  also  in 
that  of  a  mysterious  entering  into  them.  Whatever  men  may 
say,  without  holding  firmly  by  the  idea  of  a  mediator,  the 
horrors  of  Gethsemane  can  never  be  satisfactorily  explained. 
A  mere  representation  of  the  deat^  of  the  sinner,  from  which 
Christ  came  to  redeem  mankind,  could  not  have  laid  hold  of 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel  so  overpoweringly.  He  entered  into 
much  closer  contact  with  "the  last  enemy."  He  emptied  the 
cup  of  its  terrors. 

Observe  now  to  what  a  height  his  distress  increases.  With 
the  candid  confession,  "My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death,"  he  hastens  back  to  his  three  friends,  like  one  who, 
in  his  feebleness,  welcomes  even  the  slightest  support  and  con- 
solation, and  speaks  to  them  no  longer  like  a  master  to  his 
servants,  but  like  one  who  is  oppressed  and  in  need  of  comfort, 
to  his  brethren  who  may  possibly  be  able  to  afford  him  help. 
"Tarry  ye  here,"  he  says,  "and  watch  with  me."  He  means, 
"  Do  not  leave  me,  your  presence  is  a  comfort."  It  is  not  they, 
but  himself,  who  is  to  be  pitied. 


108  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

"Tarry  ye  here."  In  what  terrific  vicinity  must  he  have 
found  himself*  that  even  the  sight  of  these  poor,  frail  disciples, 
seemed  so  desirable  and  beneficial  to  him.  "  Tarry  ye  here." 
How  could  he  have  besought  them  in  this  manner,  -if  he  had 
seen  heaven  open  above  him,  and  had  felt  that  he  was  lying  on 
his  Father's  bosom?  "Watch  with  me."  This  expression 
points  out  still  more  minutely  the  distress  of  his  soul;  for, 
though  intended  to  serve  as  a  warning  to  his  disciples,  to  be 
upon  their  guard  in  this  hour  of  temptation;  yet  he  claims,  at 
the  same  time,  their  sympathy  for  himself,  and  requests  their 
compassion,  possibly,  even  their  intercession.  Certain  it  is, 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  was  never  in  a  state  of  deeper  humiliation, 
either  before  or  afterward,  than  here  in  the  garden  of  Geth- 
semane. 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  these  words  to  his  disciples,  when  he 
tore  himself  from  them,  and  proceeded  about  a  stone's  throw 
into  the  recesses  of  the  garden.  Here  we  see  him  sinking  on 
the  ground,  first  upon  his  knees,  and  then  on  his  face,  and 
the  supplicating  cry  now  forces  itself,  for  the  first  time,  from  his 
deeply  agitated  soul,  "  Abba,  Father,  all  things  are  possible  unto 
thee,  take  away  this  cup  from  me;  nevertheless,  not  what  I 
will,  but  what  thou  wilt  ?  Yes,  he  would  gladly  have  been  spared 
the  cup  which  was  given  him  to  drink,  the  contents  of  which 
were  so  horrible ;  for  it  is  #ot  a  senseless  stone,  but  a  real  man, 
susceptible  of  every  painful  feeling,  that  suffers  within  him. 
He  wishes  its  removal,  however,  simply  on  the  condition  which 
is  invariable  with  him,  that  it  should  be  in  accordance  with  his 
Father's  counsel  and  will.  He  says,  "If  it  be  possible;"  he 
does  not,  however,  mean  this  in  the  general  sense,  for  he  had 
already  said,  "All  things  are  possible  unto  thee;"  but  he 
thinks  only  of  a  conditional  possibility,  within  the  limits  of  the 
object  for  which  he  had  appeared  in  the  world. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  "  How  can  Christ  still  inquire  whether 
the  redemption  of  mankind  can  be  accomplished  without  the 
cross  and  the  shedding  of  his  blood?"  This,  however,  is  not 
hi3  object.  The  Lord's  question  confines  itself  to  the  present 
horrors — the  cup  of  G-ethsemane.  Let  this  circumstance,  there- 
fore, again  remind  us  that  the  self-renunciation  of  the  Son  of 


GETHSEMANE CONFLICT   AND   VICTORY.  109 

G-od  essentially  consisted  in  his  divesting  himself,  to  a  certain 
point,  of  the  use  of  his  divine  perfections  generally,  and  of  his 
unlimited  omniscience  in  particular;  in  consequence  of  which 
lie  was  in  a  position  to  walk  in  the  same  path  of  faith  with  us, 
and,  according  to  the  expression  of  the  apostle,  to  "Learn  obe- 
dience by  the  things  which  he  suffered." 

The  prayer  of  the  divine  sufferer  knocked  at  the  door  of  the 
divine  audience-chamber  with  all  the  force  of  holy  fervor  and 
filial  resignation,  but  no  echo  greeted  his  ear.  Heaven  main- 
tained a  profound  silence.  The  suppliant,  then  rising  up  with 
increased  anguish  from  the  ground,  hastens  again  to  his  disciples, 
but  finds  them — how  inconceivable! — sunk  in  deep  sleep.  He 
hastily  awakens  them,  and  says  with  mournful  earnestness  to 
Peter,  first  of  all — "Simon,  sleepest  thou?  Couldst  thou  not 
watch  one  hour?"  An  overwhelming  question  for  the  pre- 
sumptuous disciple,  whose  mouth  had  just  before  been  so  full 
of  assertions  of  fidelity  even  unto  death.  He  then  addresses 
this  solemn  warning  to  the  whole  three — "  Watch  ye,  and  pray, 
lest  ye  enter  into  temptation.  The  spirit  truly  is  ready,  but  the 
flesh  is  weak." 

That  which  led  him  back  to  the  disciples  this  time,  beside 
the  need  he  felt  of  consolation  for  his  agitated  soul,  was  his 
ardent  affection  for  them,  who,  like  himself,  were  surrounded  by 
dangerous  and  infernal  powers.  "The  hour  of  darkness,"  to 
which  he  had  referred  in  a  warning  manner  on  a  previous 
occasion,  had  arrived.  The  prince  of  this  world  had  appeared 
on  the  stage  in  complete  armor.  Hell  saw  every  barrier  to  its 
devices  removed.  The  mysterious  stupefaction  and  inability  of 
the  disciples  manifests  the  baneful  influence  of  the  atmosphere 
they  breathe.  It  was,  therefore,  necessary  that  they  should 
summon  up  all  the  powers  of  their  mind  and  spirit  in  order  not 
to  succumb  to  the  temptation  to  offense,  unbelief,  and  apostasy. 
For  the  expression,  "enter  into,"  signifies  here  the  being 
entangled  in  the  snares  of  temptation.  The  injunction  to 
"  Watch,"  includes  in  it  an  alarming  call  to  vigilance  and  fore- 
sight against  a  misapprehension  of  the  threatened  danger.  The 
exhortation  to  pray  is  an  imperative  note  of  preparation,  a 
direction  to  the   armory  of  Jehovah,  and  an  invitation   to   the 


HO  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

source  of  all  help  and  strength — the  grace  of  God.  The  words, 
"  The  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak/'  must  not  be  ex- 
plained as  an  excuse  for  the  slumberers,  but  be  regarded  as  an 
additional  reason  for  the  warning  he  addresses  to  them.  The 
Lord  intends  to  say,  "Do  not  trust  to  your  pious  resolutions. 
Your  sinful  and  easily  insnared  nature  needs  much  stronger 
restraint,  especially  when  baneful  influences  from  without  are 
superadded." 

The  Lord  again  returns  to  the  deeper  shade  of  the  garden, 
and  prays  a  second  time  in  a  somewhat  altered  form — "  0  my 
Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  from  me,  except  I  drink  it,  thy 
will  be  done ! "  One  of  the  evangelists  mentions  that  he  prayed 
"  more  earnestly  this  second  time."  He  does  not  mean  that  he 
urged  his  suit  to  be  spared  more  importunately  than  before; 
but  that,  on  the  contrary,  as  soon  as  he  perceived  from  the 
silence  of  his  heavenly  Father,  that  his  petition  was  refused,  he 
strove,  with  an  increased  expenditure  of  strength,  to  enter  still 
more  deeply  into  the  obedience  of  faith.  Meanwhile  his  inward 
horror  continued  to  increase. 

After  rising  up  from  prayer,  he  again  sought  his  disciples, 
but  found  them  still  sleeping — "Sleeping  for  sorrow,"  as  the 
narrative  informs  us ;  and  my  readers  may  probably  have  them- 
selves experienced  how  grief  and  dejection  can  paralyze  and 
bind  the  animal  spirits ;  "  for  their  eyes  were  heavy."  And  on 
being  awoke,  "  they  wist  not,"  m  their  stupor,  "  what  to  answer 
him." 

The  Lord  withdrew  a  third  time  into  solitude,  and  prayed 
the  same  words.  An  angel  now  descends  to  the  suppliant 
Saviour,  and  approaches  him  in  order  to  "strengthen  him." 
This  sudden  appearance  of  a  heavenly  being  must,  in  itself, 
have  afforded  the  Lord  no  small  comfort,  after  his  mental 
imprisonment  in  the  sphere  of  sinful  men  and  lost  spirits. 
What  the  radiant  messenger  brought  the  divine  sufferer,  was 
not,  however,  the  news  that  his  Father  was  wiUing  to  grant  his 
petition  for  exemption  from  .the  cup  of  suffering;  but,  if  he 
came  with  any  message  at  all,  it  was  only  the  express  intelli- 
gence that  the  plan  of  salvation  did  not  admit  of  its  removal 
The  probability,  however,  is,  that  the  mission  of  the  angel  was 


getiis::mam: — conflict  and  victory.  Ill 

only  intencLxi  to  strengthen  his  exhausted  frame,  and  revive 
his  fainting  spirit,  which  had  been  shaken  to  their  center,  in 
order  that  in  the  last  and  most  painful  part  of  the  conflict,  the 
body,  at  least,  might  not  succumb.  For  immediately  after  the 
return  of  the  angel,  "Being  in  an  agony,  he  prayed  more 
earnestly,  and  his  sweat  was,  as  it  were,  great  drops  of  blood 
falling  down  to  the  ground."  What  a  spectacle !  It  is  asserted 
only  of  one  individual,  Charles  IX.  of  France,  whose  conscience 
was  burdened  with  the  massacre  of  the  Protestants  on  the  eve 
of  St.  Bartholomew,  that  on  his  deathbed,  under  the  accusations 
of  the  inward  monitor,  he  literally  sweat  blood  in  the  anguish 
of  his  soul.  What  a  parallel  between  the  murderer  of  thousands 
of  Christ's  flock,  and  Christ  the  Holy  One  himself!  Who  is 
not  horrified  at  the  contrast ;  but  to  whom  does  it  not  at  the 
same  time  afford  a  dawning  apprehension  of  the  nature  and 
importance  of  Immanuel's  sufferings,  and  shed  a  degree  of  light 
upon  the  darkest  and  most  terrific  moment  of  the  conflict  in 
Gethsemane  ? 

Let  us  refer,  once  more,  to  that  mysterious  prayer  at  which 
the  world  is  so  often  inclined  to  stumble.  It  has  been  found 
'difficult  to  make  it  agree  with  the  Lord's  love  to  mankind,  with 
his  submission  to  his  Father's  will,  with  his  omniscience,  and 
with  his  previous  composure  and  resolution  in  announcing  the 
sufferings  that  awaited  him,  that  he  could  suddenly  desire  to  be 
freed  from  these  sufferings.  And  when,  to  objections  of  this 
kind,  it  is  answered  that  the  soul  of  Jesus,  during  the  conflict 
in  Gethsemane,  must  be  supposed  to  have  been  involved  in  a 
state  of  gloomy  obscurity,  in  accordance  with  the  divine  will — 
it  is  rejoined  that  the  perspicuity  and  fervor  with  which  he 
addressed  God  as  his  Father,  both  before  and  after,  by  no  means 
leave  us  to  infer  such  a  state  of  darkness.  Inexplicable  enigmas 
and  contradictions  seem  to  accumulate  upon  us  here;  but  the 
obscurity  will  pass  away,  if  we  consider  what  follows. 

First,  as  regards  the  objection  derived  from  our  Lord's  omni- 
science, we  repeat  what  we  have  formerly  stated.  The  self- 
renunciation  of  the  Eternal  Son  consisted  essentially  in  this, 
that  during  his  sojourn  on  earth,  he  divested  himself  of  the 
unlimited    use    of   all    his   divine   attributes,   and    leaving   that 


H2  THE    HOLT   PLACE. 

eternity,  which  is  above  time  and  space,  he  entered  upon  an 
existence  circumscribed  by  time  and  space,  in  order  that  he 
might  tread  the  path  of  the  obedience  of  faith,  like  ourselves, 
and  perfect  himself  in  it  as  our  Head,  High  Priest,  and  Mediator. 
As  "the  Servant  of  JehovahJ'  which  title  is  applied  to  him  in 
the  Old  Testament,  it  was  his  part  to  serve,  not  to  command; 
to  learn  subjection,  not  to  rule;  to  struggle  and  strive,  but  not 
to  reign  in  proud  repose  above  the  reach  of  conflict.  How 
could  this  have  been  possible  for  one  who  was  God's  equal, 
without  this  limitation  of  himself?  All  his  conflicts  and  trials 
would  then  have  been  only  imaginary  and  not  real.  He  did 
not  for  a  moment  cease  to  be  really  God,  and  in  the  full  pos- 
session of  every  divine  perfection:  but  he  abstained  from  the 
exercise  of  them,  so  far  as  it  was  not  permitted  by  his  heavenly 
Father. 

Observe,  secondly,  that  the  Lord,  in  G-ethsemane,  does  not 
pray  to  be  delivered  from  his  impending  sufferings  generally, 
but  only  for  the  removal  of  the  horrors  he  was  then  enduring. 
How  could  he  desire  any  thing  contrary  to  the  counsel  of  God, 
who,  when  his  disciples  had  exhorted  him  against  thus  giving 
himself  up  to  suffering,  rebuked  them  so  severely?  He  only 
asks,  if  it  be  possible  for  the  cup  to  pass  from  him;  and 
means  that  cup  alone,  whose  bitterness  and  horrors  he  was  then 
tasting. 

That  Christ,  in  his  conflict,  still  acknowledges  God  as  his 
Father,  had  nothing  strange  in  it,  and  does  not  contradict  the 
assumption  that  in  Gethsemane  he  emptied  the  cup  of  divine 
judgment  for  our  sins.  For  it  is  one  thing  to  know  God  as  his 
Father,  only  by  faith,  and  another  to  feel  him  present  in  his 
paternal  capacity,  and  experience  him  in  the  enjoyment  of  his 
favor  and  affection.  The  Spirit  of  Jesus,  in  its  grievous 
conflicts,  certainly  always  struggled  through  all  opposition 
to  the  comfortable  consciousness  of  Sonship ;  but  what  his 
human  soul  experienced,  was  only  curse,  estrangement,  and 
rejection. 

Finally,  the  doubt  whether  the  urgency  of  Christ's  prayer 
stands  in  accordance  with  his  love  to  sinners,  as  well  as  with 
his  submission  to  his  Father's  counsel,  is  completely  destitute  of 


GETIISEMANE CONFLICT   AND   VICTORY.  113 

foundation.  The  love  of  Jesus  as  well  as  his  obedience,  cele- 
brate, in  Grethsemane,  their  most  brilliant  triumphs.  He  only 
his  Father  whether,  without  infringing  upon  the  work  of 
redemption,  this  cup  might  pass  from  him.  That  he  has  only 
this  conditional  possibility  in  view,  and  does  not  claim  the 
divine  omnipotence  in  general  for  his  rescue,  he  clearly  shows  by 
that  which  precedes  his  question.  "  Father,"  says  he,  "  to  thee 
all  tilings  are  possible ;"  by  which  he  intends  to  say,  u  I  well 
know  that  my  conflict  shall  end  at  thy  pleasure ;  but  wilt  thou 
be  able  to  will  its  termination  without  thereby  frustrating  the 
option  of  sinners?  If  not,  then  refuse  my  request;  I  will 
thru  drink  the  cup  to  the  dregs." 

His  obedience  to  Ins  Father  resembles  his  love  to  him.  The 
invariable  language  of  his  heart  was,  "Not  as  I  will,  but  as 
thou  wilt."  If  the  sinless  weakness  of  the  will  of  his  human 
soul  strove  against  it,  the  will  of  his  Spirit  immediately  laid  hold 
of  it,  and  overpowered  it  with  the  feeling  of  the  most  decided 
resignation,  which  exclaimed,  u  Father,  thy  will  be  done,  not 
mine!"  This  cry  had  indeed  to  be  wrung  from  resisting  na- 
ture in  her  distress ;  and  like  a  vessel  in  a  storm,  which  steers 
firmly  and  undeviatingly,  according  to  the  direction  of  the 
needle,  toward  its  port,  yet  not  in  so  direct  and  equable  a 
course  as  during  a  calm :  so  the  will  of  Christ's  Spirit  entered 
into  the  will  of  G-od.  As  long  as  the  unconditional  necessity  of 
the  cup  of  suffering  was  still  in  question,  his  heart  was  tossed  to 
and  fro  like  the  surging  sea.  But  as  soon  as  he  became  assured, 
by  the  continued  silence  of  his  heavenly  Father,  that  the  world 
could  not  be  otherwise  redeemed  than  by  his  completely  empty- 
ing this  cup :  he  did  not  permit  the  wish  to  avoid  the  suffering 
to  be  heard  again;  but  with  the  words,  "My  Father,  if  this 
cup  may  not  pass  from  me  except  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done !" 
He  accomplished  the  great  sacrifice  of  the  most  unreserved, 
filial,  and  willing  resignation  of  his  whole  self  to  the  counsel  and 
determination  of  his  heavenly  Father. 

The  cup  of  horror  has  been  emptied  to  the  very  dregs.  Our 
Lord  raises  himself  up  from  the  dust,  and  hastens  back  to  his 
disciples.  The  whole  manner  of  his  behavior,  tone,  and  de- 
portment is  now  essentially  changed,  and  indicates  encourage- 


114  THE   HOLY    PLACE. 

ment,  manliness,  and  consciousness  of  victory.  We  behold  him 
coming  forth  triumphantly  from  the  conflict,  and  armed  and 
prepared  for  all  that  is  to  follow.  "Sleep  on,  now,  and  take 
your  rest,"  he  begins  to  say  with  mournful  and  reproving 
seriousness,  "It  is  enough."  "For  my  sake" — is  his  meaning 
— "you  need  no  longer  watch;  I  require  your  assistance  no 
more.     My  conflict  is  ended." 

But  what  means  the  addition,  "It  is  enough?"  What  else 
than  "Your  slumbers  will  now  cease  of  themselves?"  The 
words  that  immediately  follow  require  this  explanation.  "  The 
hour  is  come;  behold  the  Son  of  Man  is  betrayed  into  the 
hands  of  sinners."  He  intends  by  these  words  to  say,  "The 
body  is  now  concerned,  and  your  liberty  is  at  stake ;  who  will 
think  any  longer  of  sleeping  under  such  circumstances?  He 
knows  what  hour  has  struck.  Not  without  a  degree  of  appre- 
hension, but  still  perfect  master  of  his  feelings,  he  courageously 
prepares  for  being  delivered  into  the  hands  of  sinners,  with 
whom,  by  this  expression,  he  evidently  contrasts  himself  as  the 
Holy  One. 

"Rise  up!"  says  he  at  the  close,  expressive  of  the  valorous 
resolution  which  his  language  breathed.  "Let  us  go,"  con- 
tinues he,  "Lo,  he  that  betrayeth  me  is  at  hand!"  What  a 
momentous  appeal  is  this!  The  champion  of  Israel  goes  forth 
to  attack  and  overcome,  in  our  stead,  death,  hell,  and  the  devil, 
in  their  strongest  holds.  Let  us  adoringly  bow  the  knee  to  him 
and  accompany  him  with  hallelujahs. 

Thus,  has  the  most  mysterious  scene  the  world  ever  witnessed 
passed  before  us  in  all  its  affecting  circumstances;  and  which 
of  my  readers  has  not  felt  that  to  solve  its  enigmas,  the  keys 
which  human  science  puts  into  our  hands  are  insufficient.  In 
no  earthly  martyrdom  is  there  any  thing  which  remotely  corre- 
sponds with  the  conflict  in  Gethsemane.  It  is  obvious,  on  the 
contrary,  that  in  treating  of  it,  we  have  to  do  with  sufferings 
which  are  unique  in  their  kind.  I  might,  however,  observe 
that  the  antithetical  obscurity  of  the  conflict  places  itself  in  light 
and  splendor  before  us,  as  soon  as  it  reaches  its  culminating 
point.  It  is  only  by  the  guiding  clew  of  these  ideas,  that  we 
find  our  way  out  of   the  labyrinth.     If  we  belie vingly  follow 


GETIISEMANE IMPORT   AND   RESULT.  115 

that  clew,  which  is  not  drawn  by  the  arbitrary  will  of  man,  but 
is  put  into  our  hands  by  the  word  of  God,  we  shall  discover  the 
source  of  our  eternal  peace,  where,  at  the  commencement,  noth- 
ing but  horror  and  distress  took  possession  of  us ;  and  shall  joy- 
fully finish,  by  ascribing  thanksgiving,  and  blessing,  and  praise 
unto  him,  who  endured  such  great  tilings  for  us. 


XIII. 
GETIISEMANE— IMPORT    AND    RESULT. 

The  apostle,  in  writing  to  the  Hebrews,  concerning  the  priest- 
hood of  Jesus  Christ,  expresses  himself  in  a  remarkable  manner, 
when  he  says  in  chap.  v.  7,  8,  "  Who  in  the  days  of  his  flesh, 
when  he  had  offered  up  prayers  and  supplications,  with  strong 
crj'ing  and  tears  unto  Mm  that  was  able  to  save  him  from 
death,  and  was  heard  in  that  he  feared :  though  he  were  a  Son, 
■arned  he  obedience  from  the  things  that  he  suffered." 

The  apostle  has  evidently  reference  here  to  the  conflict  in 
Gethsemane,  and  expressly  designates  what  the  Lord  Jesus 
endured  and  accomplished  there,  as  sacrificial.  According  to 
the  apostle's  view,  the  Lord  there  struggled  in  the  agonies  of 
death;  and  he  represents  the  deliverance  from  death  as  the 
object  of  his  supplications.  But  the  death  with  which  the 
divine  sufferer  strove,  could  not  be  that  which  delivers  the  soul 
from  the  prison  of  the  body:  but  only  that,  the  power  over 
which  is  possessed  by  the  devil,  and  which,  while  separating 
mankind  from  fellowship  with  God,  weighs  upon  them  as  the 
curse  and  wages  of  sin. 

The  apostle  says,  Christ  was  "heard  in  that  he  feared" — 
that  is,  was  delivered  from  the  fear  and  horror  of  God.  It 
follows  of  course,  that  this  fear  must  not  be  understood  as 
godly  fear  or  filial  reverence;  but  as  horror  and  terror  at  the 
majesty  of  the  Thrice  Holy  One  in  the  heavens ;  for  the  being 
heard,  can  only  have  reference  to  this  fear.     But  the  Father's 


116  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

"hearing"  was  experienced  only  after  Christ,  by  his  sufferings, 
had  learned  obedience — that  is,  when  he  uttered  the  words, 
"Father,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt,"  and  had,  without 
reserve,  accepted  the  cup  from  him.  In  the  midst  of  strong 
crying  and  tears,  the  Lord  offered  himself  up  as  the  Lamb 
which,  as  the  representative  of  a  sinful  world,  presented  himself 
at  the  bar  of  divine  judgment.  For  as  Isaiah  says,  "He  was 
taken  from*  prison  and  from  judgment." — Chap.  liii.  8. 

I  confess  that  whenever  I  am  called  upon  to  treat  of  the 
sacred  mysteries  of  G-ethsemane,  I  can  not  divest  myself  of  a 
certain  degree  of  awe.  I  feel  as  if  there  stood  at  the  gate  of 
that  garden  a  cherub,  who,  if  not  with  a  flaming  sword,  yet 
with  a  repelling  gesture  refused  admittance,  and  emphatically 
repeated  our  Lord's  injunction  to  tarry  outside,  while  he  retires 
to  pray.  A  feeling  always  seizes  me,  as  if  it  were  unbecoming 
to  act  as  a  spy  on  the  Son  of  the  living  God  in  his  most  secret 
transactions  with  his  heavenly  Father;  and  that  a  sinful  eye 
ventures  too  much  in  daring  to  look  upon  a  scene  in  which 
the  Lord  appears  in  such  a  state  of  weakness  and  abandonment 
that  places  him  on  the  same  footing  with  the  most  miserable 
among  men.  Besides,  I  know  that  I  am  expected  to  introduce  the 
reader  into  depths  which  make  the  head  turn  giddy  to  look 
down  upon;  to  solve  enigmas,  the  complete  deciphering  of 
which  I  must  despair  of  on  this  side  of  eternity;  to  explain 
mysteries,  for  the  unsealing  of  which,  my  own  soul  vainly 
languishes;  and  to  draw  aside  vails,  which,  as  often  as  I  at- 
tempt it,  seem  the  more  to  thicken.  But  the  Gospel  brings  the 
mysterious  narrative  before  us  for  consideration,  and  hence  it  is 
incumbent  upon  us  to  enter  into  its  sacred  gloom,  and  seek  to 
comprehend  as  much  of  it  as  human  apprehension  is  capable  of. 

The  events  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  with  their  scenes 
of  horror,  have  passed  in  review  before  us.  If  we  are  not 
entitled  to  regard  the  position  in  which  we  find  the  Saviour 
there,  as  altogether  extraordinary,  superhuman,  and  singular; 
we  should  do  better  to  close  the  gate  of  that  inclosure,  and 
withdraw  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  from  the  eyes  of  the  world,  if 
we  wish  to  save  his  honor,   and  that  of  his  Father.     If,   in 

*  "  From  distress  or  terror."    German  version. 


GETIISEMAXE — IMrORT   AND   RESULT.  11 1 

Getliseraanc,  we  have  to  do  with  Jesus  only  as  a  prophet  or 
teacher,  his  office,  as  such,  there  suffered  the  most  complete 
■hip wreck;  since  we  can  not  then  avoid  the  conclusion,  that  he 
must)  himself)  have  been  at  fault  with  regard  to  his  doctrine, 
and  have  lost  the  courage  to  die  for  it.  If  he  is  to  be  regarded 
in  G-ethsemane  only  as  the  model  of  unconditional  resignation 
to  God ;  we  must  say  that  he  scarcely  attained  even  to  this ; 
since  Stephen  and  many  other  martyrs  have  appeared  infinitely 

r  than  the  trembling  Jesus,  with  his  bloody  sweat  and 
agonizing  prayer  that  the  cup  might  pass  from  him.  If  we  are 
to  look  upon  Jesus  only  as  a  man  desirous,  by  his  example,  of 
sealing  the  truth  that  in  the  time  of  distress,  the  Lord  God  is 
near   his   people   with  his  help    and    consolation — the    question 

recurs,  where  does  such  a  tranquilizing  fact  appear;  since 
the  very  opposite  shows  itself,  and  the  holy  sufferer  languishes 
from  being  forsaken  of  God  ?  If,  finally,  he  must  be  viewed  as 
a  proof  of  that  overcoming  peace  which  never  departs  from  the 
just,  but  accompanies  him  in  every  season  of  distress:  we  look 
around  us  in  vain,  even  for  such  a  testimony ;  for  instead  of 
peace,  a  horror  seizes  upon  the  Holy  One  of  God,  like  that  of  a 
guilty  malefactor,  which  renders  him  restless  and  fugitive,  and 
even  gives  him  the  appearance  of  one  who  is  on  the  brink  of 
despair. 

We  must,  therefore,  have  to  do,  in  G-ethsemane,  with  some- 
thing essentially  different  to  what  I  have  just  mentioned,  or 
Get  hsemane  becomes  the  grave  of  the  Lord's  glory.  If  he  were 
fighting  a  battle,  only  similar  to  that  which  every  martyr  for 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  has  fought  before  and  since — the  scholars 
are  then  superior  to  their  Master,  and  the  latter  is  thrown  by 
them  far  into  the  shade.  All  belief  in  the  government  of  a  holy 
and  righteous  God  in  the  world,  must  be  stamped  as  a  delusion, 
if,  in  the  suffering  of  Jesus,  we  apply  no  other  criterion  than 
that  of  an  ordinary  testing  and  purifying  trial.  Heaven  must 
full,  the  order  of  the  divine  government  be  annihilated,  and 
Christianity  be  forever  destroyed,  if  the  Holy  Scriptures  com- 
pel us  to  regard  the  cup,  which  Jesus  drank,  as  essentially  the 
same  as  that  of  which  Job,  Jeremiah,  Paul,  and  many  others 
partook. 


118  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Know,  however,  that  the  combatant  in  Gethsemane  loses 
nothing  in  our  esteem  by  his  being  "  sore  amazed  and  very- 
heavy ;"  nor  are  we  mistaken  in  him,  in  whatever  degree  he 
may  seem  to  have  lost  his  self-possession.  We  do  not  stumble 
at  seeing  him  tear  himself  loose  from  his  disciples,  with  the  vio- 
lence of  one  beside  himself,  and  then,  prostrate  in  the  dust,  hear 
him  mournfully  exclaim,  "  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death ! "  Even  his  thrice  uttered  anxious  petition, 
u  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me !"  and  his 
taking  refuge  with  his  weak  disciples,  as  well  as  his  requesting 
them  to  watch  with  him  one  hour  for  his  consolation — nay,  even 
the  bloody  sweat,  which  flowed  from  his  veins,  and  dropped 
from  his  sacred  body  to  the  ground — however  much  we  may 
feel  astonished,  whatever  sorrow  it  may  cause  our  hearts,  and 
however  deeply  it  may  horrify  us — it  does  not  make  us  take 
offense,  nor  cause  our  faith  to  suffer  shipwreck.  In  our  view, 
brilliant  stars  shine  over  the  darkness  of  Gethsemane.  We  pos- 
sess the  key  to  its  mysteries  and  the  depth  of  its  horrors ;  and 
we  find  it  in  the  sentiment,  which,  in  every  variety  of  form,  per- 
vades the  whole  Bible :  "  God  hath  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us, 
who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of 
God  in  him."  As  long  as  Christ's  position,  as  Mediator,  is  not 
acknowledged,  the  events  in  Gethsemane  will  continue  a  sealed 
mystery.  Every  attempt  to  explain  them,  otherwise  than  by 
the  fundamental  article  of  his  vicarious  mediation,  must  be  for- 
ever unavailing.  Only  through  the  light  which  it  affords  us, 
is  every  thing  rendered  clear  and  intelligible  to  us  in  that  .appall- 
ing scene.  The  most  striking  contradictions  are  then  reconciled, 
and  that  which  is  the  most  strange  and  apparently  incomprehen- 
sible, disappears,  and  seems  perfectly  natural.  The  divine 
sufferer  in  Gethsemane  must  be  regarded,  not  as  that  which  he 
is  abstractedly,  but  in  his  mysterious  relation  to  sinners.  He 
here  appears  as  "  the  second  Adam,"  as  the  Mediator  of  a  fallen 
world,  as  the  Surety,  on  whom  the  Lord  "  laid  the  iniquities  of 
us  all." 

Three  causes  lay  at  the  basis  of  Jesus's  mental  sufferings — the 
one  more  awful  than  the  other.  His  agony  was  caused,  first, 
by  his  horror  of  sin,  by  amazement  at  the  abominations  of  oui 


GETHSKMANK IMPORT   AND    RESULT.  119 

I 

misdeeds,  and  by  penitential  conflict.  The  transgressions, 
which  were  divinely  imputed  to  him,  that  he  might  suffer  for 
them  as  the  representative  of  sinners,  crowd  into  the  sphere  of 
I  lis  vision  in  the  most  glaring  light.  He  beholds  them  very  dif- 
fer. 1  it  ly  to  the  view  taken  of  them  by  man  in  his  darkened 
state.  They  present  themselves,  to  his  holy  eyes,  in  their 
naked  deformity,  in  their  unutterably  abominable  nature,  and 
in  their  soul-destroying  power.  In  sin,  he  sees  apostasy  from 
the  Almighty,  daring  rebellion  against  the  Eternal  Majesty,  and 

revolt  against  the  will  and  law  of  God;  and  surveys,  at 
one  view,  all  the  horrible  fruits  and  results  of  sin,  in  the  curse, 

.  and  endless  perdition.  How  was  it  possible  that  the 
pare  and  holy  soul  of  Jesus,  at  the  sight  of  such  horrors,  should 
not  tremble  and  shudder,  and  be  seized  with  a  nameless  abhor- 
rence, of  which  we,  who  are  so  deeply  infected  by  sin,  have  no 
conception?  Only  imagine  personified  holiness  placed  in  the 
midst  of  the  pool  of  the  world's  corruption !  May  it  not  be  sup- 
posed,  how  a  sinless  messenger  sent  to  him  from  the  Father, 

•  I  only  to  enter  into  such  a  horrible  sphere  of  vision,  in 
order,  by  his  mere  appearance,  greatly  to  comfort  and  refresh 
the  Saviour? 

But  do  not  let  us  conceal  it  from  ourselves,  that  the  sore 
amazement  and  heaviness,  which  the  Saviour  experienced  in 
G-ethsemane,  would  still  remain  an  inexplicable  mystery,  were 
we  not  permitted  to  conceive  of  him  as  standing  in  a  still 
nearer  relation  to  our  sins  than  that  of  merely  beholding 
them.  We  not  only  may  do  so,  but  are  even  compelled  to 
it  by  the  Scriptures.  The  assertion  is  true,  that  the  Redeemer 
as  Mediator,  would  only  have  been  able  to  suffer  the  punish- 
ment due  to  our  sins,  by  having  a  consciousness  of  them. 
The  personal  feeling  of  guilt — that  worm  in  tne  manow  of 
life — certainly  renders  punishment  what  it  is,  and  forms  its 
peculiar  essence  and  focus.  But  if  the  doctrine  of  the  satis- 
faction rendered  by  Christ  is  opposed  on  the  ground  that  he 
was  holy,  and  that,  therefore,  it  was  a  contradiction  and  an 
Impossibility  for  him  to  have  inwardly  felt  the  condemning 
sentence  of  the  law  like  a  criminal — those  who  do  so  would  be- 
come guilty  of  a  very  hasty  and  presumptuous  procedure.     They 


120  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

would  then  be  overlooking  the  supernatural  and  mysterious 
union,  into  which  the  God-man  and  second  Adam  entered  with 
us,  as  our  Head,  and  by  which  he  received  into  himself — not  our 
sinfulness,  for  he  remained  immaculate  as  before — but  our  con- 
sciousness of  guilt,  together  with  its  terrors.  You  ask  how  this 
was  practicable?  Something  corresponding  with  it,  though  in 
a  remote  degree,  may  be  met  with,  even  in  our  human  affinities 
and  relations.  Natural  affection  and  consanguinity  are  able  to 
establish  sympathies,  in  consequence  of  which  a  father  may  take 
his  son's  faults  and  improprieties  to  heart,  or  a  friend  those  of 
his  friend,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  compelled  to  sigh,  mourn, 
humble  himself  with  brokenness  of  heart,  and  wrestle  with  God 
for  mercy  on  account  of  them,  as  if  they  were  his  own.  Now, 
imagine  to  yourselves,  if  you  are  able,  apart  from  his  mystic 
union  with  our  sinful  race,  the  energy  of  love  and  sympathy 
with  which  Christ  immersed  himself  in  us  and  our  guilty  state, 
and  you  will  more  easily  conceive  how,  though  supremely  holy 
in  himself,  he  could  feel  our  guilt  as  his  own.  Add  also  to  this, 
that  supernatural  connection  which,  in  its  mysterious  depths,  is 
unfathomable  by  all  human  thought,  by  which  he  was  incor- 
porated, as  a  graft,  into  the  stem  of  humanity,  with  which  he 
became  identified,  and  the  doctrine  that  the  Saviour  took  the 
consciousness  of  our  guilt  upon  him  in  another  and  more  inti- 
mate manner  than  that  of  a  mere  objective  representation,  will 
no  longer  appear  unreasonable.  You  will  now  comprehend  how 
the  Psalmist  could  exclaim,  concerning  the  Messiah  :  "  My  iniqui- 
ties have  taken  hold  upon  me,  so  that  I  am  not  able  to  look  up ; 
they  are  more  than  the  hairs  of  my  head ;"  nor  any  longer  won- 
der at  Christ's  behavior  in  Gethsemane.  The  mystery  of  his 
horror,  amazement,  and  dismay  is  solved.  His  anguish  in  the 
garden  is  the  distress  occasioned  by  sin,  the  pangs  of  contrition, 
and  the  terror  at  the  judicial  majesty  of  the  holy  God,  endured 
in  our  names,  and  tasted  in  our  stead.  It  is  repentance — a  repent- 
ance commensurate  with  the  greatness  of  our  sin,  and  which,  in 
his  priestly  capacity,  he  offers  for  us  to  the  Eternal  Father. 

Besides  the  abominable  nature  of  sin,  the  Lord  experiences  its 
curse ;  and  in  this  we  perceive  the  second  explanatory  cause  of 
the  terrors  of  Gethsemane.     He  feels  himself  as  a  culprit  before 


GETIISEMANE IMPORT  AKD   RESULT.  121 

God.  All  that  is  implied  in  being  separated  from  God,  deprived 
of  his  favor,  estranged  from  his  affection,  and  a  child  of  wrath, 
he  feels  as  deeply,  inwardly,  and  vitally,  as  if  he  himself  were  in 
that  situation.  He  descends  the  gradations  of  such  feelings  into 
the  distress  of  the  damned,  and  into  those  infernal  horrors  where 
the  prophetic  lamentations  in  Psalm  xxii.  find  their  fulfillment: 
"Be  not  far  from  me,  for  trouble  is  near,  for  there  is  none  to 
help.  My  strength  is  dried  up  like  a  potsherd,  my  tongue 
cleaveth  to  my  jaws,  and  thou  hast  brought  me  into  the  dust  of 
death."  He  is  only  able,  by  naked  faith,  to  struggle  through 
the  ilood  of  opposite  impressions  and  feelings,  to  the  conscious- 
ness that  God  is  still  his  Father  as  before.  His  soul  is  uncon- 
scious of  God's  gracious  presence,  and  tastes  only  the  pain  and 
distress  of  abandonment.  Alas!  the  sight  of  his  Father's  smil- 
ing face  was  his  heaven;  the  consciousness  of  paternal  favor, 
his  entire  felicity.  But  he  now  beholds  it  enveloped  in  gloomy 
clouds ;  and  instead  of  intimate  nearness,  he  experiences  only  a 
feeling  of  distance  on  the  part  of  God.  But  he  was  not  to  be 
spared  these  bitterest  drops  in  our  "  cup  of  trembling,"  in  order 
that  the  words  of  prophecy  might  be  fulfilled  in  him :  "  He  hath 
borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our  sorrows." — (Isaiah,  liii.  4).  Even 
the  heavenly  peace  of  his  heart  belonged  to  the  things  which  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  sacrifice  as  the  ransom  for  our  souls. 
Can  we,  therefore,  feel  surprised  that  when  his  sufferings  rose  to 
this  state  of  inward  abandoment,  the  inquiry  as  to  the  possi- 
bility of  the  removal  of  the  cup  should,  with  still  stronger  effort, 
be  wrung  from  his  soul  ? 

The  third  cause  of  our  Lord's  bitter  distress  in  Gethsemane, 
is  to  be  sought  in  the  world  of  fallen  spirits.  It  is  beyond  a 
doubt  that  Satan  essentially  contributed  to  the  horrors  of  that 
scene.  The  Lord  himself  intimates  as  much  in  the  words,  "  The 
prince  of  this  world  cometh,"  and  "  Tins  is  the  hour  and  the 
power  of  darkness."  And  his  repeated  call  to  his  disciples,  when 
overcome  by  gloomy  slumber,  to  watch  and  pray,  lest  they 
should  enter  into  temptation,  places  it  beyond  question  in  what 
kind  of  society  and  atmosphere  they  were  at  that  moment.  The 
infernal  powers  have  been  let  loose  upon  the  Divine  Kedeemer. 
They  are  permitted  to  array  against  him  all  their  cunning,  might, 

6 


122  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

and  malice.  If  they  are  able  to  drive  the  soul  of  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel  to  despair,  they  are  at  liberty  to  do  so.  It  is  in  their 
power  to  distress  and  torment  him  to  death,  for  no  one  hinders 
them.  They  may  try  him  as  much  as  they  please,  no  one  stands 
by  him  to  help  him.  He  must  look  to  it,  how  he  can  maintain 
his  ground.  What  I  am  saying  sounds  horribly;  but  he  who 
voluntarily  endured  the  punishment  due  to  us,  was  not  permitted 
to  escape  being  given  up  to  the  assaults  of  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness. What  the  latter  did  to  him  is  not  expressly  mentioned ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  they  assailed  him  in  the  most  fearful  man- 
ner, and  strove,  with  terrific  visions,  which  they  conjured  up 
before  him,  with  revolting  blasphemies,  which  they  poured  into 
his  ear,  and  with  lying  suggestions,  to  induce  him  to  suspect  the 
conduct  of  his  father  toward  him,  and  tortured  him  with  insid- 
ious dissuasions  from  the  work  of  human  redemption.  Suffice 
it  to  say  that  our  Lord's  faith,  as  well  as  his  patience,  fidelity, 
and  perseverance  in  the  work  he  had  undertaken,  were  never 
put  to  a  fiercer  ordeal  than  under  the  fiery  darts  of  the  "  Wicked 
One,"  which  he  endured  in  Grethsemane.  Here  the  complaints 
of  the  Psalmist,  in  Psalm  xviii.,  were  realized :  "  The  sorrows  of 
death  compassed  me,  and  the  floods  of  ungodly  men  made  me 
afraid.  The  sorrows  of  hell  compassed  me  about,  the  snares  of 
death  prevented  me." 

Thus  has  the  night  of  Gethsemane  become  light  to  us, 
although  that  light  be  glimmering.  The  connection  between 
that  scene  of  horrors  and  the  garden  of  Eden,  of  which  it  is  the 
awful  antitype,  is  unmistakable.  While  in  paradise  the  first 
Adam  reposed  in  the  lap  of  Divine  Love,  and,  like  a  child  at 
home,  held  peaceful  converse  with  Jehovah  and  his  holy  angels, 
we  see,  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  the  second  Adam  sinking 
in  agony  to  the  ground,  under  the  oppressive  burden  of  guilt, 
languishing,  forsaken  of-  God,  and  horrified  in  the  company  of 
dark  and  infernal  spirits.  How  evident  it  is,  from  this  contrast, 
that  what  was  transgressed  and  violated  in  the  former,  was  suf- 
fered and  compensated  for  in  the  latter;  and  how  loudly  does 
the  narrative  itself  testify  to  the  truth,  that  Christ  suffered  in  the 
character  of  a  satisfying  surety,  and  an  atoning  representative  ! 

After  having  thus  developed  the  mystery  both  of  the  causes 


GETHSEMANE IMPORT   AND    RESULT.  123 

and  nature  of  Christ's  suffering  in  Gethsemane,  so  far  as  we  have 
been  enabled  so  to  do,  let  us 'now  inquire  into  the  blessed  result 
which  has  accrued  to  us  from  them.  For  this  purpose  it  is 
necessary  that  we  should  apprehend  the  conflict  in  Gethsemane, 
not  in  the  abstract^  but  in  its  inseparable  connection  with  the 
whole  of  Christ's  mediatorial  sufferings.  We  see,  however,  in 
single  stage  of  our  Saviour's  passion,  some  particular  part 
of  the  salvation  he  accomplished  brought  before  U3  in  a  clear 
and  obvious  light ;  and,  accordingly,  as  we  find  ourselves  placed 
in  circumstances  which  require  especial  consolation,  first  one 
and  then  another  station  on  his  path  to  the  cross  invites  us  under 
its  peace-inspiring  shade. 

Let  us  hasten  to  Gethsemane,  therefore,  beloved  readers,  when 
we  feel  oppressed  in  a  world  where  selfishness  reigns  paramount, 
and  what  still  remains  of  the  charity  of  the  Gospel  threatens  to 
expire  in  self-seeking  and  self-love.  The  loving  Saviour,  whom 
we  behold  struggling  for  us  in  Gethsemane,  continues  ours ;  and 
how  faithfully,  ardently,  and  disinterestedly  is  he  attached  to  us ! 
a  price  did  it  cost  him  to  elevate  such  unworthy  creatures 
as  we  are  from  our  misery,  and  to  procure  eternal  salvation  for 
0  love  divine,  how  do  our  hearts  expand  at  the  con- 
templation of  thy  beauty !  How  blissful  it  is  to  escape  from  a 
selfish  world  to  meditate  on  thee,  to  sun  ourselves  in  thy  fight,  and 
to  know  that  we  are  reposing  on  thy  bosom !  What  a  happiness 
is  this — what  a  foretaste  of  heaven  in  the  house  of  our  pilgrim- 
age !  0  love,  stronger  than  death,  and  more  invincible  than  the 
grave,  never  depart  from  our  view!  Be  thou  the  star  to  shine 
upon  us  day  and  night;  and  the  colder  the  wind  of  a  self-loving 
world  blows  upon  us  during  our  sojourn  here  below,  the  more 
brightly  do  thou  display  to  the  eyes  of  our  spirits  the  gracious 
radiance  of  thy  heavenly  beauty! 

>rt  to  Gethsemane,  my  readers,  when  you  stand  uncertain 
which  way  to  choose — whether  to  give  yourselves  to  God  cr  to 
the  service  of  the  world.  Gethsemane  will  make  it  evident  to 
you  what  sin  is.  Look  at  Jesus.  He  did  no  sin,  but  only  took 
upon  him  that  of  others.  How  did  it  fare  with  him  ?  "  Now  is 
the  hour  and  the  power  of  darkness,"  said  he.  He  was  given 
up  to  the  assaults  of  the  infernal  hosts,    now  they  fell  upon 


124  THE    HOLY    PLACE. 

him !  How  they  tormented  his  holy  soul !  What  horrible 
company!  what  nameless  terrors!  But  know  that  what  tor- 
tured him  for  a  time,  menaces  you  forever  !  Think  of  being  eter- 
nally doomed  to  endure  the  society  and  the  scourges  of  the 
infernal  powers !  Is  it  possible  to  conceive  of  any  thing  more 
terrible?  Jesus  prayed  that  the  cup  might  pass  from  him,  but 
no  answer  was  afforded  him.  God  heeded  not  his  agonizing 
cries  j  and  yet  Jesus  was  only  the  sinner's  representative,  while 
you  must  answer,  each  one  for  himself.  Eemember  the  rich 
man  in  the  Gospel,  who  vainly  besought  a  drop  of  water  to  cool 
his  parched  tongue.  Who  among  you  can  bear  to  dwell  with  de- 
vouring fire,  or  abide  with  everlasting  burnings  ?  Be  irresolute  no 
longer.  On  the  left  yawns  the  pit,  on  the  right  shines  the  crown! 
Sin  begets  death,  but  the  fruit  of  righteousness  is  life  and  peace. 

Let  us  repair  to  Gethsemane,  lastly,  when  the  storms  of  temp- 
tation roar  around  us,  and  Satan  goes  about  seeking  whom  he 
may  devour.  The  days  in  which  our  lot  has  fallen  are  danger- 
ous, and  few  there  are  who  are  not  carried  away  with  the  stream 
of  impiety.  Even  in  the  circle  of  the  believing  and  the  pious 
how  much  weakness  of  faith,  decrepitude  of  spirit,  want  of 
peace,  and  discouragement  do  we  perceive!  How  do  the  com- 
plaints increase  of  inward  darkness,  doubt,  and  blasphemous 
imaginations,  which  can  not  be  repelled!  All  these  are  signs 
that  the  Wicked  One  is  using  every  effort,  and  as  the  Scripture 
says,  is  "in  great  wrath."  He,  therefore,  who  wishes  to  be 
secure,  must  resort  to  Gethsemane.  There  we  shall  not  only  find 
a  confederate  in  the  conflict,  who  will  point  the  way  to  victory — 
there  we  shall  not  only  be  aroused  with  the  alarming  cry, 
"Watch  and  pray  lest  ye  fall  into  temptation;"  but  there  the 
conviction  is  renewed  within  us,  that  the  prince  of  this  world  is 
already  judged — that  every  rightful  claim  of  the  adversary  upon 
us  is  extinguished,  and  that  what  the  Evil  One  suggests  to  us  of 
an  abominable  nature  against  our  wills,  falls  upon  his  own  head, 
and  not  upon  ours,  since  it  has  been  long  ago  atoned  for  by  the 
bloody  sweat  of  Immanuel,  in  the  case  of  penitent  sinners,  and 
can  only  have  a  purifying  effect  upon  us  according  to  the  will  of 
God.  This  faith  is  the  victory,  winch  has  already  overcome  the 
prince  of  darkness. 


THE    SUDDEN   ASSAULT.  125 

Looking  thus  at,  Gethsemane,  in  its  proper  light,  it  becomes  to 
08  an  "Eden,"  and  is  transformed,  with  its  horrors,  into  a  peace- 
ful retreat  Within  its  circuit  we  are  safe  from  the  judicial 
inquiry,  "Adam,  where  art  thou?"  In  this  garden  flows  the 
-tailing  river  of  God,  which  waters  the  new  paradise. 
How  many  thousand  anxious  souls  have  gone  forth  out  of  it, 
from  the  conflicting  bustle  of  the  world,  into  divine  Sabbatic 
repose !  Its  holy  gates  are  open  to  us.  Come,  therefore,  let  us 
•itially  enter,  and  inhale  its  peaceful  atmosphere! 


XIV. 
THE    SUDDEN    ASSAULT. 

After  coming  off  victorious  from  his  spiritual  conflict  in  Geth- 
semane, the  divine  sufferer  prepares  to  enter  upon  the  thorny 
path  of  bodily  affliction.  We  must  bear  in  mind  that  under  the 
latter  the  former  not  only  continues,  but  each  of  the  trials  to 
which  he  is  subjected  must  be  regarded  only  as  the  reflection  of 
incomparably  more  real  and  inward  states  and  situations.  His 
being  taken  prisoner,  his  being  brought  before  the  bar  of  judg- 
ment, his  condemnation  by  the  Sanhedrim,  and  his  passage  to 
the  cross,  are  only  symbolical  representations  of  infinitely  more 
exalted  events,  which  were  behind  the  vail,  in  the  relations 
of  the  Mediator  to  God,  the  supreme  Judge.  He  who  is  unable 
to  regard  the  individual  scenes  of  our  Lord's  passion  from  tins 
point  of  view,  does  not  penetrate  through  them,  and  will  never 
find  his  way  in  the  labyrinth  of  the  history  of  our  Saviour's 
sufferings. 

We  imagine  ourselves  still  enveloped  in  the  darkness  of  that 
eventful  night,  in  which  our  Lord  said,  in  a  tone  of  serious 
warning,  to  his  disciples,  and  which  may  still  be  uttered  to  thou- 
sands in  the  present  day,  "All  of  you  shall  be  offended  because 
of  me  this  night."  Scarcely  has  the  Saviour  risen  up  from  the 
ground  when  a  new  cause  of  alarm  awaits  him.      Before  his 


126  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

disciples  are  aware,  lanterns  and  torches  are  seen  glistening 
amid  the  gloomy  bushes  of  the  valley,  and  a  murderous  band, 
armed  with  swords,  staves,  and  spears,  is  seen  approaching 
along  the  banks  of  Kedron.  The  powerful  preparation  made  for 
this  occasion  is  partly  in  order  to  serve  as  a  mask,  as  if  they 
were  banded  together  for  the  purpose  of  seizing  a  dangerous 
conspirator  and  rebel ;  and  partly  in  consequence  of  a  secret  fear 
and  apprehension  in  the  minds  of  the  adversaries  that  they 
might  probably  meet  with  some  unexpected  opposition.  The 
superfluous  torches  and  lanterns,  in  light  of  the  full  moon, 
likewise  manifest  their  conscience-smitten  fears.  They  might, 
however,  have  in  view  the  hypocritical  announcement  that  the 
individual  they  were  about  to  arrest,  despairing  of  his  cause,  was 
only  to  be  found  in  secret  corners  and  hiding-places.  Scarcely 
ever  were  so  much  devilish  wickedness,  baseness,  and  craftiness 
joined  with  so  much  inward  cowardice,  timidity,  and  faint- 
heartedness, as  we  meet  with  in  this  band  of  ruffians.  It  is 
truly  an  infernal  host  with  which  we  have  to  do — the  body- 
guard of  Satan. 

Let  it  not  disturb  us  to  inspect  it  a  little  more  closely.  We 
first  perceive  the  priests,  the  ministers  of  the  sanctuary.  What 
accusation  have  they  to  bring  against  Jesus?  This — that  he  is 
undermining  their  proud  hierarchy,  stripping  them  of  their  false 
glory,  snatching  from  their  hands  the  scepter  of  despotism  over 
the  consciences  of  the  poor  people,  diminishing  their  tithes  and 
resources,  and  intimating  to  them,  that  they  ought  to  place 
themselves  in  the  ranks  of  publicans  and  sinners.  All  this  was 
intolerable  to  these  proud  and  domineering  servants  of  mam- 
mon, and  hence  their  hatred  of  the  Lord  of  Grlory.  Hence  also 
the  animosity  of  numbers  of  our  cotemporaries.  All  enmity  to 
Christ,  regarded  in  this  light,  is  nothing  but  the  rebelling  of 
proud,  self-righteous,  human  nature,  devoted  to  the  service  of 
the  world,  against  a  Gospel  which  places  self-denial  and  the 
crucifixion  of  the  flesh,  with  its  affections  and  lusts,  at  the  head 
of  its  requirements. 

Near  the  priests  we  behold  the  Pharisees,  those  blind  leaders 
of  the  blind,  the  representatives  of  the  delusive  idea  of  individ- 
ual merit,  and  hence,  also,  of  repugnance  to  a  doctrine  which, 


THE    SUDDEN   ASSAULT.  127 

while  stamping  every  one  as  a  delinquent,  affords  a  hope 
of  salvation  onl/  by  grace,  and  even  to  the  most  pious  as  the 
I  of  their  boasting  before  God,  leaves  nothing  but  the  freely 
bestowed  righteousness  of  another.  It  is  easy  to  understand  how 
these  men  were  offended  at  aTeajher  who  set  up  regeneration 
as  a  vital  condition  for  all:  whose  language  was,  "The  Son 
of  Man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister," 
and  who  testifies  of  himself  saying,  "  I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth, 
and  the  Life,  no  man  cometh  to  the  Father  but  by  me."  Let  us 
ask  ourselves,  whether,  until  the  Spirit  enlightens  our 
darkness,  we  are  willing  to  be  nothing,  and  that  grace  should 
be  every  thing?  Whether  we  are  better  pleased*  than  these 
sons  of  Gamaliel,  to  see  our  justification  before  God  founded 
solely  and  exclusively  on  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  that  we  are 
therefore  naturally  less  offended  with  the  Prince  of  Peace  than 
they  ?  I  doubt  whether  this  question  will  be  decided  in  our 
favor.     The  Pharisee  dwells  in  all  of  us  from  our  infancy. 

In  the  Scribes,  who  appear  next  in  the  band,  we  see  the  ex- 
pression of  a  spurious  wisdom,  accompanied  by  spiritual  ambi- 
tion. No  wonder,  therefore,  that  such  characters  are  also  met 
with  among  the  conspirators  against  Jesus.  They,  the  learned 
among  the  people,  were  told  that  they  must  sit  on  the  scholar's 
bench  with  the  rest,  and  condescend  to  take  their  places  at  the 
feet  of  the  Rabbi  of  Nazareth.  They,  the  masters  in  Israel,  who 
were  stared  and  wondered  at,  and  who  sat  with  the  heads  of  the 
people — were  they  to  submit  to  this  ?  How  could  such  an  idea 
fail  to  rouse  and  enrage  the  self-conceited  men  to  the  utmost  ? 
But  do  not  the  words  of  Jesus  continue  in  force,  even  to  this 
day  ?  "  Thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent;" 
as  well  as  those  of  the  apostle,  "  Not  many  wise  men  after  the 
flesh  are  chosen?"  In  addition  to  the  universal  disinclination  to 
Jesus,  which  is  peculiar  to  every  one  who  is  not  healed  of  the 
hereditary  darkness  of  the  human  mind,  there  was  also  in  the 
case  of  the  Scribes,  a  latent  vexation  at  the  numerous  defeats 
and  mortifications  they  had  sustained  in  the  face  of  the  people, 
as  often  as  they  had  ventured  to  assail  him.  How  victoriously 
had  he  always  driven  them  from  the  field!  How  had  he 
caught  them  in  their  own  craftiness  1     How  had  he  taken  them 


128  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

captive  in  the  very  snares  they  had  laid  for  him,  and  then  openly 
disgraced  and  triumphed  over  them!  These  were  the  things 
for  which  tkey  could  not  forgive  him.  And  after  the  weapons 
of  their  sophistry  had  been  wrenched  from  their  hands,  they 
were  neither  noble-minded  nor  ingenuous  enough  not  to  regard 
those  of  the  basest  treachery  and  rudest  violence  as  suitable  for 
their  purpose.  0  speak  no  more  of  the  natural  man's  nobility 
of  spirit !  Whatever  stage  of  refinement  and  mental  culture  he 
may  boast  of  occupying,  there  is  always  a  price  for  which  he 
will  unhesitatingly  barter  this  cause  for  boasting. 

Under  the  command  of  the  ringleaders  above  mentioned,  we 
observe  the  servants  of  the  high  priests,  those  blind  instruments 
of  their  superiors,  who,  though  less  guilty,  are  any  thing  but 
guiltless ;  and  then  also,  the  mercenaries  of  the  Roman  temple 
guard.  It  becomes,  indeed,  people  of  this  class  unconditionally 
to  obey  the  command  of  those  who  are  set  over  them.  Yet  they 
are  not  mere  machines,  incapable  of  guilt  in  so  doing,  but 
answerable,  as  well  as  all  other  men,  to  God  the  final  judge,  for 
their  moral  conduct;  whose  obedience  ought  to  be  limited  by 
the  well-known  maxim — "  We  must  obey  God  rather  than 
man;"  and  whose  duty  it  therefore  was,  in  the  present  case,  to 
prefer  dying  by  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  to  the  doubtful 
praise  of  having  done  their  duty  in  the  perpetration  of  the  most 
heinous  of  crimes.  However,  for  the  most  part,  they  know  not 
what  they  are  doing.  More  reprobate  than  they,  appears  the 
despicable  troop,  who,  for  money  or  favor,  have  voluntarily 
joined  the  band.  These  cowardly  flatterers  and  men-servers,  to 
whom  it  is  a  trifle,  for  one  approving  look  from  a  man  of  rank, 
to  smite  their  conscience  in  the  face,  remind  us  of  those  miser- 
able imitators  of  others,  who,  because  this  or  that  person,  on 
whom  they  depend,  thinks  in  this  manner  or  that,  do  not  dare 
to  speak  otherwise;  and  carry  their  baseness  to  such  a  point 
that  they  even  dispose  of  their  independent  judgment  in  affairs 
of  supremely  vital  importance,  for  the  most  miserable  price  in 
the  world.     Woe  to  such  worthless  characters ! 

But  let  us  cast  a  look  also  at  the  troop  of  catchpoles.  Who  is 
it  walks  at  their  head,  with  a  gloomy  face  and  confused  look  t 
Who  is  the  man,  muffled  up  in  a  cloak,  and  bearing  the  impress 


THE   SUDDEN   ASSAULT.  129 

of  a  forced,  rather  than  of  a  natural  bravery,  in  his  mien?  Ah, 
We  recognize  him!  Out  hearts  shudder  at  the  sight  of  him, 
and  the  blood  stiffens  in  our  veins.  It  is  the  son  of  perdition, 
of  whom  it  was  written  a  thousand  years  before:  "He  that  did 

;"  my  bread  hath  lifted  up'  his  heel  against  me."  It  is  the 
Wretched  man  who  wears  the  garb  of  discipleship  only  as  the 

tioua  adder  is  clothed  in  its  glistening  skin;  the  hypocrite, 
Who  conceals  himself  in  his  apostolical  office,  like  the  murderous 

er  in  its  golden  sheath.  Sin  is  perfected  in  Mm,  and  con- 
demnation ripened  to  maturity.  In  darkness,  bitterness,  and  a 
deceiver  to  the  inmost  center  of  his  being:  he  now  hates  Jesus  as 

irkness  hates  the  light.  He  has  got  beyond  the  period  when 
he  might  have  broken  with  Jesus  with  indifference,  and  then  have 
on  his  way  without  troubling  liimself  any  more  about  him. 
But  he  has  now  gi^en  way  to  all  the  feeling  of  an  infernal  re- 
volt. He  is  furious  against  him,  as  though  the  meek  and  lowly 
were  an  implacable  judge,  by  whose  holiness,  purity,  and 

he  feels  himself  condemned  for  his  own  treachery,  hypoo- 
risy,  and  malice.  He  had  long  felt  painfully  uneasy  in  the 
company  of  Jesus.  How  could  it  be  otherwise?  A  bird  of 
night  can  not  bear  the  light  of  the  sun.  At  the  anointing  in 
Bethany,  where  he  became  conscious  that  Jesus  saAV  through 
him,  he  resigned  liimself  wholly  to  the  spirit  of  fury  and  bitter- 

instead  of  to  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  swore  deadly  vengeance 
against  the  man  who  had  done  him  no  other  wrong  than  that  of 
looking  into  his  heart.  Think  not  that  the  lure  of  the  thirty 
of  silver  was  a  sufficient  cause  for  his  treachery.  It  was 
infernal  in  its  nature,  and  must  be  sought  much  deeper.  The 
unhappy  disciple  had  already  imbibed  that  furious  spirit,  which 
fecessantly  stings  the  lost  in  hell,  to  curse  and  blaspheme  him 
who  judged  them,  and  of  whom  they  are  obliged  to  testify,  that 
all  his  judgments  are  just.  Alas !  a  spark  of  this  fury  is  every 
Where  found  in  fallen  human  nature.  As  often  as  the  Lord  is 
on  tin-  point  of  shedding  his  light  into  the  depths  of  its  darkness, 
the  hidden  serpent  begins  to  move.  The  natural  heart  can  not 
bear  the  disturber  of  its  idle  peace ;  and  thus,  the  only  Saviour 
of  sinners  is  greeted,  even  by  those  whom  he  came  to  save,  with 
the   salutations  of   the  rebellious  citizens:   "We  will  not  have 

6* 


130  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

this  man  to  reign  over  us ; "  and  with  that  of  the  Gergesenes : 
"  We  pray  thee  to  depart  out  of  our  coasts." 

"  Bise,  let  us  be  going.  Behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  doth 
betray  me!"  From  whence  resounds  this  courageous  and 
resolute  call  ?  From  the  same  lips,  out  of  which  the  cry  of 
pressure  and  distress  had  only  just  before  ascended  to  heaven, 
*'  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me !"  But  now,  behold 
the  glorious  conqueror!  He  emerges  from  the  horrible  conflict 
in  Gethsernane,  as  if  steeled  both  in  body  and  soul.  His  whole 
bearing  breathes  self-possession,  manliness,  and  sublime  com- 
posure. No  sooner  was  he  aware  who  it  was  that  presented  the 
cup  to  him  in  Gethsernane,  than  he  willingly  emptied  it,  and 
knows  henceforth  that  the  terrors  and  horrors  which  may  be  in 
reserve,  belong  to  the  indispensable  conditions  with  which  the 
completion  of  his  great  mediatorial  work  is  connected.  This 
consciousness  enables  liim  to  take  firm  steps  on  the  path  of 
suffering.  He  clearly  sees  that  whatever  of  evil  awaits  him,  is 
the  result  of  his  Father's  counsel. 

When  the  Lord  says  to  his  disciples,  "  Rise,  let  us  be  going ! " 
he  does  so,  in  the  next  place,  in  order  to  show  them  his  altered 
state  of  mind,  and  because  he  was  desirous  that  they  should  all  be 
present  at  his  arrest,  that,  as  eye-witnesses,  they  might  afterward 
inform  the  world  how  their  master  had  voluntarily  delivered 
himself  up  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  not  as  one  who 
was  vanquished  by  them. 

But  see  what  occurs  ?  Before  the  multitude  that  came  against 
him  has  reached  the  place,  he  proceeds  several  paces  toward 
them  with  a  firm  step.  In  opposition  to  the  conduct  of  our 
progenitor  in  paradise,  who,  on  the  inquiry,  "  Adam,  where  art 
thou?"  sought  concealment,  our  Lord  approaches  the  armed 
band  with  open  vizor,  and  asks  them  the  simple  question, 
"  Whom  seek  ye  ?" — a  question  at  which  the  ruffians  ought  to 
have  felt  deeply  ashamed,  because  it  revealed  the  lying  character 
of  their  whole  procedure,  and  especially  of  their  warlike  array 
against  him.  But  the  world  was  to  learn  that  the  Lord  was  led 
to  the  slaughter,  not  by  mistake,  but  intentionally,  because  he 
was  the  Just  and  Holy  One  of  Israel ;  and  it  was  for  this  reason 
also,  that  the  Saviour  asked,  "Whom  seek  ye?" 


THE   SUDDEN   ASSAULT.  131 

The  answer  of  the  armed  band  was  clear  and  decisive  :  "  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,"  say  they.  After  thus  making  known  their  object, 
the  Lord,  with  the  sublime  composure  of  the  divine  Mediator, 
Who  not  only  knew  all  that  should  befall  him,  but  was  also 
clearly  conscious  of  the  cause,  results,  and  final  consequences  of 
it  all,  said  to  them,  "I  am  He!"  Great  and  significant  expres- 
sion !  It  was  never  uttered  by  the  Saviour  without  being 
accompanied  with  the  most  powerful  effects.  "It  is  I!"  ex- 
claimed he,  to  his  astonished  disciples,  when  walking  on^  the 
waves  of  the  sea;  and,  as  at  the  sound  the  raging  storm  imme- 
diately subsided,  so,  a  flood  of  peace  and  joy  poured  itself  into 
file  hearts  of  Ins  followers.  "I  that  speak  unto  thee  am  He!" 
Baid  he  to  the  Samaritan  woman  at  Jacob's  well;  and  immedi- 
ate left  her  waterpot  and  hastened  back  to  Sichem,  as  the 
first  evangelist  to  the  borders  of  Samaria.  "I  am  He-!"  was  his 
testimony  at  the  bar  of  the  Sanhedrim,  as  we  shall  subsequently 
find ;  and  the  conviction  that  he  was  really  the  Messiah,  smote 
the  mi 'ids  of  his  judges  so  powerfully  that  it  was  only  by  means 
of  the  stage-trick  of  rending  his  clothes,  that  the  high  priest  was 
able  to  save  himself  from  the  most  painful  embarrassment.  And 
what  occurs  on  Ins  making  use  of  the  words  on  the  present  occa- 
sion ?  On  hearing  them  the  whole  band  of  officials  start,  give  way, 
stagger  backward,  and  fall  to  the  ground  as  if  struck  by  an  invisi- 
ble Hash  of  lightning,  or  blown  upon  by  the  breath  of  Omnipotence. 

That  which  thus  powerfully  affected  them  was,  undeniably, 
the  deep  impression  of 'the  holiness  and  innocence  of  Jesus,  by 
which  they  were  for  a  time  overpowered.  His  majestic,  though 
simple  declaration,  called  forth  in  them,  in  its  full  strength,  the 
forcibly  repressed  conviction  of  his  superhuman  glory.  But  this 
mental  emotion  would  not  alone  have  sufficed  to  stretch  the 
whole  troop  bodily,  as  by  magic,  in  the  dust,  if  an  act  of  divine 
omnipotence  had  not  accompanied  it.  The  Lord  overthrew 
them,  in  order,  in  the  most  forcible  manner,  to  stamp  their 
appellation  of  "Jesus  of  Nazareth"  as  a  falsehood,  and  to  force 
upon  them  the  conviction  of  his  divine  superiority,  as  well  as  to 
the  world  an  actual  proof  that  it  was  not  through- compul- 
sion or  weakness  that  he  became  a  sacrifice  for  it,  but  in  conse- 
quence of  his  free  determination. 


132  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

The  murderous  band  lie  at  his  feet,  prostrated  by  a  single 
expression  from  his  lips.  And  what  would  have  hindered  him 
from  walking  triumphantly  over  them ;  and,  after  fixing  them  to 
the  ground,  departing  uninjured  and  uninterrupted?  But  he 
only  aims  at  displaying  his  supremacy  and  independence,  and 
after  attaining  this  object,  he  permits  them  to  rise  again  from 
the  ground.  Their  prostration  in  the  dust  before  him,  points 
out  to  unbelievers  the  situation  in  which  they  will  one  day  be 
found.  The  homage  which  they  refused  to  Jesus  here  below,  he 
will  in  due  time  compel  them  to  render  him.  The  knee  that 
would  not  bow  to  him  in  voluntary  affection,  will  at  length  be 
constrained  to  do  so  by  the  horrors  of  despair.  A  threefold  woe 
will  light  upon  them  as  obstinate  rebels,  when  the  Lord  shall 
appear,  no  longer  with  the  palm  branch  and  shepherd's  crook, 
but  with  the  sword  and  scales  of  even-handed  justice.  There  is 
no  rising  up,  or  recovering  from  the  amazement  and  terror 
which  will  then  seize  upon  them,  at  the  sound  of  the  words, 
"I  am  He!" 

After  the  armed  band,  by  the  Lord's  permission,  had  again 
raised  themselves  up,  he  repeats  the  question  to  them,  "  Whom 
seek  ye  ?"  accompanied  this  time  by  an  overwhelming  irony. 
As  when  one,  who  had  been  mistaken  for  a  vagrant,  and  arrested 
as  such,  should  suddenly  display  to  the  view  of  his  captors  the 
royal  star  on  his  breast,  and  were  calmly  to  say  to  them, 
"  Whom  did  ye  think  to  catch  ?"  So  here,  likewise,  with  our 
Lord's  question,  "  Whom  seek  ye  ?"  only  that  here  is  more 
than  an  earthly  king.  The  banditti  at  his  feet  have  just  been 
made  aware  of  it ;  the  question,  therefore,  as  it  respects  them, 
puts  on  the  form  of  the  bitterest  mockery,  for  what  folly  for  a 
straw  to  attack  a  fire,  or  a  spark  the  foaming  ocean !  They 
feel  the  sting  of  the  reiterated  question  in  their  consciences,  and 
are  confounded.  The  monitor  within  condemns  them  as  repro- 
bates and  fools ;  nevertheless,  they  readily  overcome  their  in- 
ward impression  of  the  truth,  and  mechanically  give  the  same 
reply  as  though  it  were  the  word  of  parole.  It  was  uttered,  the 
first  time,  with  a  certain  military  rudeness  and  boldness,  but 
now  it  escapes  from  them  timidly  and  without  emphasis,  and 
testifies  of  an  inward  overthrow,  which  gives  way  to  a  degree  of 


THE   SUDDEN   ASSAULT.  133 

assurance,  only  after  the  Lord  has  voluntarily  delivered  himself 
up  to  them. 

"  Jesus  answered,  I  have  told  you  that  I  am  He.  If,  there- 
fore, ye  seek  me,  let  these  go  their  way."  How  sweet  and  full 
of  promise  are  these  sounds !  0  how  well  the  Lord  was  able  to 
preserve  the  most  perfect  self-possession  in  every  situation,  how- 
ever terrible;  and,  with  his  anxiety  for  the  completion  of  the 
work  of  redemption,  to  mingle  the  minute  and  inconsiderable 
with  the  stupendous  and  sublime.  While  girding  himself  for 
his  mysterious  passage  to  the  cross,  he  does  not  forget,  in  his 
adorable  faithfulness,  to  rescue  his  disciples  from  the  approach- 
ing storm;  "If  ye  seek  me,"  says  he,  "let  these  go  their  way." 
To  this  expression,  however,  we  must  attribute  an  application 
far  beyond  its  immediate  meaning.  The  evangelist,  neverthe- 
less, acts  quite  correctly  in  applying  it,  in  the  first  instance,  to 
the  apostles,  and  adds,  "  that  the  saying  might  be  fulfilled  which 
he  spake,  "  Of  them  which  thou  gavest  me  have  I  lost  none." 

"If  ye  seek  me,  let  these  go  their  way."  An  expositor  has 
very  judiciously  remarked  on  these  words,  that  there  was  a  deli- 
cate propriety  in  Christ's  not  saying,  "  These  my  followers,"  or 
"  These  my  disciples,"  but  only  indefinitely,  while  pointing  to 
them,  "these."  For  had  he  applied  either  of  the  previous  ap- 
pellations to  them,  it  would  have  been  construed  by  the  armed 
band  as  meaning  "my  partisans,"  and  that  in  a  sense  which  he 
would  be  careful  not  to  countenance.  In  the  sense  in  which  the 
world  is  wont  to  understand  it,  the  Lord  Jesus  was  not  at  the 
head  of  a  party,  and  he  was  desirous  of  avoiding  the  least  appear- 
ance of  being  so. 

In  other  respects,  the  simple  expression,  "Let  these  go," 
uttered  with  emphasis,  was  all  that  was  needed  for  the  safety  of 
his  disciples.  It  was  not  a  request,  but  a  royal  command,  and 
at  the  same  time,  a  hint  to  the  disciples  as  to  what  they  had  to 
do.  It  was  the  signal  for  their  temporary  retreat  from  his 
scenes  of  suffering.  It  would  have  been  well  for  Simon  Peter 
had  he  obeyed  his  Master's  faithful  hint.  At  that  period  they 
were  unable  to  cope  with  such  a  "fight  of  afflictions,"  and 
would  certainly,  for  a  time,  have  all  of  them  suffered  shipwreck 
as  regards  their  faith,  if  they  had  followed  their  Master  further 


134  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

on  his  path  of  humiliation,  not  to  speak  of  the  danger  which 
would  besides  have  threatened  their  liberty,  and  even  their 
lives.  Therefore,  adored  be  the  foreseeing  circumspection,  and 
the  admirable  collectedness  and  composure  which  we  see  the 
Lord  Jesus  exercising  at  a  time  when  the  most  excellent  of 
men  could  not  have  found  room  to  think  of  any  tiling  but 
themselves,  while  bearing  upon  his  heart  the  welfare  and  safety 
of  his  followers,  and  so  graciously  providing  for  their  security 
during  the  approaching  storm. 

But  do  not  let  us  overlook  the  rich  consolation  for  be- 
lievers in  every  age,  which  this  act  of  our  Lord's  includes. 
For  he  has  uttered  the  words,  "If  ye  seek  me,  let  these  go 
their  way,"  to  other  bands  than  those  at  Gethsemane,  on  our 
behalf.  In  their  more  profound  and  general  sense,  he  spake 
them  also  to  hell,  earth,  and  the  devil,  for  it  was  he  whom 
they  really  sought,  laid  hold  of,  and  brought  low.  But  as  re- 
gards his  believing  people,  they  have  forever  exhausted  their 
power  upon  him,  and  have  left  in  him  their  sting.  And  as  far 
as  these  hostile  powers  extend,  in  the  present  day,  any  tiling 
more  than  to  sift,  try,  or  purify  the  followers  of  Jesus,  an 
insuperable  barrier  is  placed  before  them  by  these  words.  They 
can  never  destroy  those  who  are  in  Christ.  In  the  words 
above  mentioned,  we  have  a  passport  which  insures  us  a  safe 
escort  across  the  frontier  into  the  heavenly  Jerusalem.  Let  us 
therefore  honor  this  document,  for  the  seal  of  God  beams  upon 
it. 


XV. 

THE    TRAITOR'S    KISS. 

We  direct  our  eyes,  once  more,  to  the  armed  multitude  who 
had  reached  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  in  quest  of  Jesus. 
They  have  just  risen  up  from  the  ground  on  which  they  had 
been  thrown  by  the  power  of  the  Lord's  word,  "I  am  He!" 
Among  those  who  had  been  thus  hurled  to  the  dust  was  Judas, 


THE   TRAITOR'S   KISS.  135 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  this  renewed  manifestation 
of  the  majesty  of  Jesus  would  have  finally  scared  the  son  of 
perdition,  like  some  fiery  sign  or  signal  of  danger,  from  his 
traitorous  path.  And  who  knows  what  effect  servile  fear 
might  have  produced,  if  he  had  not  been  surrounded  by 
witnesses,  and  if  his  imaginary  honor  had  not  been  at  stake ! 
But  he  had  undertaken  to  act  the  part  of  a  leader ;  and  what 
a  coward  would  he  have  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  his  patrons 
and  superiors  had  he  not  resolutely  performed  his  promise  1 
How  horrible  the  delusion,  to  make  a  virtue  of  consistency, 
even  in  wickedness  1  Judas  fanned  the  flame  of  his  hostility 
to  the  Lord,  which  might  have  received  a  momentary  check, 
by  recalling  to  mind  the  anointing  in  Bethany,  and  the  last 
supper  in  Jerusalem.  Suffice  it  to  say,  he  again  stands  be- 
fore us  at  the  head  of  the  murderous  band, .  with  a  carriage 
certainly  more  forced  than  real.  His  bearing  indicates  a 
hypocritical  resolution;  but  something  very  different  is  ex- 
pressed in  his  averted  looks  and  convulsively  contracted  lips, 
as  well  as  in  the  restless  working  of  the  muscles  of  his  pallid 
countenance.  But  he  has  pledged  his  word  and  concluded  his 
contract  with  Satan.  The  traitorous  signal  must  follow.  Hell 
reckons  on  him,  and  would  not  for  the  world  lose  the  triumph 
of  seeing  the  Nazarene  betrayed  into  its  hands  by  one  of  his 
own  disciples. 

We  may  have  read  and  heard  a  thousand  times  of  this  hor- 
rible fact,  and  yet  as  often  as  it  is  repeated,  we  are  astonished 
afresh,  as  if  we  had  never  heard  it  before.  Can  there  be  a 
more  appalling  or  deeply  affecting  scene  than  this  treacherous 
betrayal  of  his  Master?  Where  did  ever  personified  goodness 
and  consummate  wickedness,  heaven  and  hell,  meet  in  more 
open  and  awful  contrast?  Scarcely  can  we  support  the  over- 
powering impressions,  which  we  here  receive,  of  the  super- 
abundance of  divine  love  and  meekness  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  fullness  of  Satanic  wickedness  on  the  other!  We  are 
witnesses  of  a  parting  scene — one  of  the  most  melancholy  and 
mysterious  the  world  has  ever  beheld — Jesus  and  his  disciple 
Judas,  separated  forever. 

Before  we  view,  in  the  traitor's  kiss,  the  mature  infernal  fruit 


136  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

'of  his  inward  corruptions,  let  us  cast  a  look  at  the  prophecies 
respecting  him  and  his  course  of  life.  In  Psalm  xli.  we  read, 
"Mine  own  familiar  friend  in  whom  I  trusted,  which  did  eat 
of  my  bread,  hath  lifted  up  his  heel  against  me."  In  Psalm 
cix.,  "  Let  his  days  be  few ;  and  let  another  take  his  office. 
As  he  loved  cursing,  so  let  it  come  unto  him ;  as  he  delighted 
not  in  blessing,  so  let  it  be  far  from  him.  As  he  clothed  him- 
self with  cursing  like  as  with  a  garment,  so  let  it  come  into  his 
bowels  like  water,  and  like  oil  into  his  bones."  And  in  Psahx 
lxix.,  "  Let  Ins  habitation  be  desolate,  and  let  no  one  dwel 
in  his  tents."  But  that  these  and  other  appalling  passages  had 
reference  to  him,  his  parents  had  not  the  slightest  idea.  The 
boy  grew  up,  displaying  a  diversity  of  talents,  and  an  inclination 
for  religion.  Had  he  been  an  ordinary  man,  how  could  he  have 
been  selected  by  Christ  to  become  one  of  his  most  confidential 
disciples  ? 

After  our  Lord  had  openly  come  forward,  Judas  seemed, 
according  to  human  ideas,  to  be  fitted  above  others,  to  aid  him 
in  his  stupendous  object.  He  offers  himself  as  a  disciple,  the 
Saviour  accepts  him,  and  admits  him  into  the  number,  assigning 
to  him  the  administration  of  their  common  fund.  ISTo  one  knows 
any  thing  of  him  but  that  he  is  a  true  disciple,  .a  devout  and 
highly  gifted  man,  and,  in  every  case,  no  ordinary  character. 
The  Lord  Jesus  alone  soon  sees  through  him,  and  perceives  in 
him  an  evil  root.  This  root  is  covetousness,  ambition,  and  in 
one  word,  egotism,  that  is,  the  sinful  inclination,  common  to 
all  natural  men,  for  the  exclusive  gratification,  exaltation,  and 
glorifying  of  self. 

That  which  led  Judas  into  fellowship  with  Jesus,  was  prob- 
ably the  hope  of  acting  a  prominent  part  in  the  kingdom  of 
his  wonder-working  Master.  Finding  that  he  had  formed  an 
erroneous  idea  of  that  kingdom,  winch  was  the  reverse  of  what 
he  expected,  he  seizes,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  money  with 
which  he  was  intrusted,  to  compensate  him,  in  a  small  degree, 
for  his  disappointment.  The  scene  at  Bethany  then  occurred, 
which  convinced  him  that  his  baseness  was  discovered  j  and  he 
then  gave  way  to  those  feelings  of  animosity  and  hatred,  which 
afterward  prompted  him  to  betray  his  master  for  thirty  pieces 


THE  TRAITOR'S   KISS.  137 

of  silver.  We  have  seen  how,  after  receiving  the  sop  from  the 
latter,  the  devil  entered  into  Lim,  and  from  that  moment  he 
became  the  entire  property  of  Satan. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  horrible  scene  we  were  contemplat- 
ing. It  is  true  that  the  sign  of  betrayal,  which  had  been 
agreed  upon,  had  been  rendered  superfluous  by  the  voluntary 
approach  of  Jesus,  and  his  majestic  declaration  concerning 
himself.  The  armed  band,  however,  were  unwilling  that  Judas 
should  forego  it,  seeing  that  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  had  been 
paid  him,  and  since  it  might  serve  as  a  kind  of  salve  to  the 
consciences  of  the  conspirators.  Hence  they  hinted  to  him  by 
their  looks,  to  keep  his  word ;  and  Judas,  partly  to  save  the 
credit  of  his  assumed  heroism,  and  partly  to  conceal  the  dis- 
couraging impression  which  the  overwhelming  words  of  Jesus 
had  produced  upon  him,  as  well  as  in  the  furtive  hope  of  dis- 
arming the  anger  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  against  him  by  the 
mark  of  affection  which  accompanied  his  nattering  salutation, 
for  he  inwardly  trembled  at  his  wrath,  and  his  language  to  the 
captors — "  Seize  him  and  hold  him  fast  1"  seems  only  to  emanate 
from  his  fear  and  anxiety,  and  not,  as  some  would  make  it 
appear,  as  ironically  intimating  that  they  would  not  succeed 
in  doing  so — approaches  the  Lord  under  the  mask  of  friendly 
intimacy,  welcomes  him  with  the  formula  of  hearty  well-wishing, 
"Hail,  Master!"  and  ventures,  like  a  poisonous  viper  hissing 
forth  from  a  rose-bush,  to  pollute  the  sacred  lips  of  the  Son  of 
Man,  amid  the  plaudits  of  hell,  with  his  treacherous  kiss ! 

This  act  is  the  most  profligate  and  abominable  that  ever 
emanated  from  the  dark  region  of  human  sinfulness  and  degen- 
eracy. It  grew  on  the  soil,  not  of  devilish,  but  of  human  nature, 
although  not  without  infernal  influence,  which  was  voluntarfry 
imbibed;  and  hence  it  may  be  attributed,  in  all  its  infamy,  to 
our  own  race,  as  such.  As  the  fully  expanded  flower,  it  displays 
the  seed  of  the  serpent,  which  we  all  of  us  bear  in  the  center  of 
our  being,  either  developed  or  in  embryo.  It  condemns  our 
whole  race,  and  at  the  same  time  places  beyond  question  the 
entire  necessity  of  an  atonement,  mediation,  and  satisfaction,  in 
order  that  our  souls  may  be  saved.  The  kiss  of  Judas  continues, 
in  the  sphere  of  morals,  to  be  the  shield  with  Medusa's  head, 


138  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

before  which  the  Pelagian,  with  his  theory  of  the  natural  good- 
ness of  the  human  heart,  must  petrify.  That  kiss  is  the  indelible 
brandmark  on  the  forehead  of  mankind,  through  which  their 
"  virtuous  pride"  receives  the  stamp  of  lunacy  and  absurdity. 

Would  that  the  traitor's  kiss  had  remained  the  only  one  of  its 
kind!  But,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  Jesus  has  still  to  endure  it  a 
thousandfold  to  this  hour.  For,  hypocritically  to  confess  him 
with  the  mouth,  while  the  conduct  belies  him — to  exalt  the  vir- 
tues of  his  humanity  to  the  skies,  while  divesting  him  of  his 
divine  glory,  and  tearing  the  crown  of  universal  majesty  from 
his  head — to  sing  enthusiastic  hymns  and  oratorios  to  him, 
while,  out  of  the  concert-room,  men  not  only  blush  at  his  holy 
name,  but  trample  his  Gospel  by  word  and  deed  under  foot — 
What  is  all  this  but  a  Judas-kiss  with  which  they  have  the 
audacity  to  pollute  his  face  ?  The  Saviour  does  not  indeed,  die 
from  such  kisses ;  but  those  who  dare  to  offer  him  such  insults 
will  not  escape.  The  loss  of  reputation  and  honor,  wealth  and 
property,  health  and  life,  are  of  no  lasting  importance.  There 
exists  a  compensation  for  all  these ;  but  to  lose  and  alienate  our- 
selves from  Jesus,  is  death  and  perdition ;  for  he  is  life  and  hap- 
piness, and  the  living  epitome  of  peace,  salvation,  and  blessing. 

"Hail,  Master!"  exclaims  the  traitor.  These  words  are  like 
two  poisonous  daggers  in  the  heart  of  the  Holy  One.  He  calmly 
accepts  them,  nor  does  he  refuse  even  the  infernal  kiss  itself. 
He  knows  why  he  is  passive  here,  seeing  that  this  grief  of  heart 
was  also  a  drop  of  the  cup  which  his  Father  had  apportioned 
him,  and  that  at  the  bottom  of  this  horrible  act  lay  the  determi- 
nate counsel  of  the  Almighty.  Angelic  meekness  would  not 
have  stood  the  test  of  that  flagitious  crime;  but  here  is  more 
than  angelic  meekness,  forbearance,  and  patience.  It  is  a  testi- 
mony to  the  divine  endurance  of  the  Lord  Jesus ;  for  the  traitor 
would  not  have  chosen  this  as  the  signal  for  betraying  his  Master 
had  he  not  been  aware  of  the  latter's  boundless  long-suffering. 
Thus,  with  the  very  kiss  with  which  he  delivered  him  up  to  his 
captors,  Judas  was  compelled  to  glorify  him,  and  only  enhance 
our  ideas  of  the  infinite  condescension  and  love  with  which  he 
had  been  favored  by  the  Saviour ;  for  he  never  would  have 
ventured  to  disguise  his  villainy  under  the  mask  of  intimacy,  had 


THE   TRAITOR'S   KISS.  139 

he  not  been  emboldened  by  the  infinite  and  oft-experienced 
amiability  of  his  Master.  So  true  it  is  that  in  the  traitor's 
daring  to  approach  him  thus  the  Lord  manifests  it  afresh  by  his 
ve  resignation  to  the  hypocritical  salute  of  the  apostate,  and 
by  the  spirit  of  compassion  and  gentleness  which  pervades  the 
bust  words  he  ever  addressed  to  him. 

"  Friend,"  says  the  Lord  Jesus,  with  pathetic  seriousness, 
"wherefore  art  thou  come?"  Who  would  have  expected  such 
mildness  on  the  present  occasion?  A  "G-et  thee  behind  me, 
•i !"  or,  "a  curse  light  on  thee  with  thy  Joab's  kiss,  thou 
whited  sepulcher!"  would  have  been  more  appropriate  in  the 
•  >f  many.  Instead  of  which,  we  hear  a  sound  like  the  voice 
of  a  parent  tenderly  concerned  for  the  soul  of  his  deeply 
seduced  child.  And  certainly,  an  outburst  of  flaming  passion 
would  not  have  been  so  annihilating  to  the  traitor  as  was  this 
exhalation  of  compassionate  charity.  The  word  "  friend,"  or,  as 
it  might  be  more  correctly  rendered,  a  companion,"  recalled  to  his 
mind  the  privileged  position  with  which,  as  having  been  received 
into  the  circle  of  the  Lord's  most  intimate  associates,  he  had 
been  favored.  This  address  reminded  him  also  of  the  many 
manifestations  of  unspeakable  kindness  and  grace  with  which  he 
had  been  loaded  for  three  whole  years,  in  the  immediate  society 
and  faithful  superintendence  of  the  most  amiable  among  men. 
And  if  one  unebclurate  place  had  been  left  in  his  heart,  how 
would  this  remembrance  have  affected  and  overpowered  him  ! 

But  in  the  Lord's  pointed  reference  to  the  social  connection  in 
which  Judas  had  stood  with  him,  there  lay,  at  the  same  time,  an 
overwhelming  condemnation  of  the  conspirators,  who  did  not 
blush  to  commit  themselves  tathe  guidance  of  a  man  whom,  in 
la 'if  hearts,  they  must  have  despised  as  a  reprobate  that  had 
lot  his  equal.  An  infamous  renegade,  who  was  not  ashamed 
bus  knavishly  and  detestably  to  deliver  up  and  tread  upon  a 
aithful  friend  and  master,  from  whom  he  had  received  nothing 
but  benefits,  bore  the  banner  before  them,  and  gave  them  the 
parole  of  the  day.  What  a  humiliation  for  them !  How  shame- 
ful and  disgraceful!  But  the  hardened  band  cared  at  the 
moment  only  for  the  Saviour's  fall,  and  that  they  might  give  the 
death-blow  to  his  hated  cause;  and  this  murderous  desire  took 


140  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

such  possession  of  their  souls,  as  to  leave  no  room  for  the  in- 
terests of  their  own  reputation. 

"Companion,"  says  the  Lord,  "wherefore  art  thou  come?" 
or,  "why  standest  thou  here?"  The  dreadful  inquisitorial 
interrogatory  rolls  like  terrific  thunder  through  the  traitor's 
heart.  His  conscience  awakes  in  a  moment  from  its  deadly 
sleep,  and  feels  itself  carried  away,  as  by  an  Almighty  hand,  to 
the  bar  of  divine  judgment.  But  Judas,  prepared  for  this 
entrance  of  truth  into  his  soul,  forcibly  resists  his  own  con- 
science, stifles  the  confession  on  the  lips  of  his  inward  monitor, 
presents  the  latter  the  poisonous  draught  of  self-deception,  and 
with  the  rapidity  of  one  well  practiced  and  experienced  m  the 
wicked  art,  succeeds  in  again  compelling  it  to  silence  and  apathy. 
Hence  the  Lord  has  nothing  left  but  to  let  the  stroke  fall  upon 
the  door  of  his  heart,  which,  if  it  does  not  succeed  in  breaking 
it  open,  acts  as  the  knell  of  eternal  reprobation  to  the  traitor. 

The  Lord  now  calls  him  by  his  name,  as  men  hope  to  awake 
a  lunatic  sleep-walker,  who  is  seen  treading  on  the  edge  of  a  pre- 
cipice, before  casting  himself  down,  by  a  similar  procedure. 
"Judas,"  says  the  Lord,  with  emphasis,  as  if  he  would  leave 
nothing  unattempted  for  his  rescue,  and  as  if  he  intended  by  it 
to  say,  "  Does  not  the  mention  of  thy  name  remind  thee  of  its 
signification — a  glorifier  of  God,  and  that  thou  art  called  after 
the  noble  and  princely  tribe  of  which  thou  art  a  scion,  and  yet 
dost  thou  come  to  me  in  this  manner  ?"  After  thus  mentioning 
his  name,  our  Lord  plainly  characterizes  his  deed.  Yet  even  then 
we  hear  him  giving  a  turn  to  his  speech,  as  if  he  disbe- 
lieved the  possibility  of  the  traitor's  purpose.  As  if  still  ques- 
tioning it,  he  says,  "Betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  Man  with  a 
kiss?"  But  Judas,  under  the  influence  of  Satan,  answers  the 
question  by  the  commission  of  that  crime  which  has  branded 
his  name  as  proverbially  characteristic  of  all  that  is  reprobate 
and  flagitious,  and  which  places  him  in  the  pillory  of  the  world's 
history,  marked  with  the  curse  of  God  on  his  forehead,  as  a 
terrific  example  to  mankind  for  endless  ages. 

"Betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  Man  with  a  kiss?"  This  is, 
therefore,  the  eternal  farewell  to  the  miserable  apostate  from  the 
lips  of  the   Saviour  of   sinners.      Woe  to  the  unhappy  man! 


THE   SWORD   AXI)   THE   CUP.  141 

Hell  triumphs  over  him,  heaven  forsakes  him,  and  the  hollow 
thunder  of  that  question  still  rolls  over  the  head  of  Judas. 
Eventually,  however,  the  words  will  be  divested  of  their  inter- 
rogatory form,  and  will  be  changed  into  a  naked  judicial  declara- 
tion, "  Thou  betrayedst  the  Son  of  Man  with  a  kiss." 

Deeply  affected,  we  close  our  meditation.  Let  what  has  been 
brought  before  us  have  its  full  effect  upon  us.  Let  no  Phari- 
saical thanking  God  that  we  are  not  like  that  man,  weaken  the 
impression.  The  germ  of  what  he  was,  lies  in  each  of  us,  and 
may  develop  itself  before  we  are  aware,  unless  we  place  our- 
selves betimes  under  the  protection  of  Divine  grace.  Satan  has 
not  yet  ceased  "  Going  about  as  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour ;"  and  the  distance  between  the  first  step  in  the 
ways  of  sin,  and  the  last  is  often  quickly  accomplished,  as  long 
as  we  are  left  to  ourselves.  Let  us,  therefore,  hasten  to  save 
our  souls  and  guard  our  hearts,  like  a  city  besieged  by  the 
enemy.  But  our  arms  of  defense  must  be  sought  where  alone 
they  can  be  found — beneath  the  wings  of  Christ.  He  is  our 
rock  and  our  fortress,  our  refuge  and  strength,  and  our  very  pres- 
ent help  in  every  time  of  need. 


XVI. 

THE  SWORD  AND  THE  CUP. 

A  singular  occurrence  interrupts  the  regular  course  of  the  sacred 
narrative  of  our  Lord's  passion,  and  serves  as  an  additional 
proof  how  difficult  it  is  for  human  thought  to  elevate  itself  to 
God's  thoughts,  especially  as  displayed  in  the  work  of  redemp- 
tion. In  the  scene  we  arc  about  to  contemplate,  a  disciple 
smites  with  the  sword,  an  action,  which,  however  well  meant, 
is,  nevertheless,  directed  against  the  very  ground  and  basis  of 
the  world's  salvation.  Let  us  rejoice  that  eternal  love  pursues 
its  even  path,  and  does  not  require  our  help  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  its  object. 

After  the  mild  but  overwhelming  words  addressed  to  the  traitor, 


142  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

our  Lord  opens  the  barriers  to  the  banditti,  and  voluntarily  offerb 
them  his  hands,  while  they  press  upon  him  with  an  artificial 
courage.  How  horrible  to  see  the  Lord  of  Glory  fallen  upon 
and  surrounded  like  a  robber  and  a  murderer!  The  disciples 
witness  it;  but  the  sight  renders  them  beside  themselves.  If,  at 
the  traitor's  kiss,  their  blood  congealed  with  horror,  it  now  begins 
to  boil  in  their  veins.  They  can  not  bear  that  it  should  come  to 
such  a  pass.  "  Lord,"  say  they,  as  with  one  voice,  "  shall  we 
smite  with  the  sword?"  They  do  well  first  to  ask,  but  the 
question  is  a  mere  matter  of  form,  and  unconsciously  uttered 
from  the  force  of  habit.  For,  while  speaking,  they  themselves 
give  the  answer;  and  before  their  Master  has  time  to  say  a 
word,  Peter's  sword  is  unsheathed,  and  the  first  blow  in  defense 
is  struck. 

We  understand  what  was  passing  in  Simon's  heart.  The 
words  our  Lord  had  uttered  on  the  road  to  Gethsemane,  respect- 
ing his  denying  his  Master  and  his  own  reply,  still  fermented 
within  him;  and  he  was  anxious  to  show  the  latter  that,  in 
accordance  with  his  own  assertion,  he  would  rather  die  than 
forsake  him.  Full  of  these  ideas,  and,  doubtless,  with  a  con- 
fused remembrance  of  what  the  Lord  had  said  respecting  the 
purchase  of  swords,  he  blindly  attacks  the  troop  with  his  blade 
of  steel,  and  smites  Malchus,  one  of  the  high  priest's  servants, 
on  the  right  ear,  so  that  it  hangs  down  on  his  cheek,  only  by 
a  slender  shred. 

"Well  done,  Simon  1"  we  are  ready  to  exclaim,  "only  pro- 
ceed as  thou  hast  begun.  These  sons  of  Belial  deserve  bleeding 
heads!  If  ye,  who  are  his  intimate  associates,  could  have 
coldly  witnessed  this  abominable  crime  against  your  Master, 
we  should  never  be  able  to  believe  in  your  love  to  him."  But 
here  again  we  must  take  occasion  to  observe  how  apparently; 
the  noblest  ebullitions  of  the  natural  heart  of  man  are  opposed ' 
to  the  will  and  order  of  God.  That  which  appears  to  us  as 
such  an  amiable  trait  in  Peter,  is  only  a  confused  mixture  of 
self-love,  arrogance,  and  folly;  while  the  fire  of  our  natural 
enthusiasm  for  Simon's  act,  proceeds  likewise  only  from  short- 
sightedness and  blindness. 

It  is  undeniable  that  an  ardent  and  sincere  affection  had  its 


THE  SWORD  i.ND  THE  CUP.  143 

essential  part  in  this  act  of  Peter's;  but  certainly,  it  was  not 
love  alone  which  nerved  his  arm  on  this  occasion;  at  least  he 
was  equally  as  anxious  to  save  his  own  honor  as  the  person 
of  his  Master ;  while  the  publicity  of  the  affair  was  assuredly 
no  mean  stimulus  to  his  bravery.  Had  Peter  been  in  earnest 
with  his  question,  "Lord,  shall  we  smite  with  the  sword?" 
the  Lord  would  certainly  have  answered  him  by  saying,  "Simon, 
wilt  thou  pollute  the  glory  of  my  submission  ?  Is  it  thy  inten- 
tion to  expose  us  to  the  suspicion  that  we  are  only  a  company 
of  political  demagogues?  Dost  thou  propose  affording  our  op- 
ponents a  ground  of  justification  for  coming  against  us  armed  ? 
And  wilt  thou  again  offer  the  hand  to  Satan  for  the  frustration 
of  the  entire  work  of  redemption  ?" 

In  this,  or  a  similar  manner,  would  the  Lord  have  spoken; 
for  certainly,  if  Simon  and  the  rest  of  the  disciples,  who  were 
also  ready  for  the  combat,  had  succeeded  in  their  attempt,  the 
plan  of  the  world's  salvation  would  have  been  obstructed,  since 
the  Lamb  of  God  would  then  not  have  been  led  to  the  slaughter. 
The  great  truth  that  the  salvation  of  sinners  could  only  be  ac- 
complished by  the  offering  up  of  the  God-man,  was  still  a 
profound  mystery  to  the  disciples,  and  continued  so  until  the 
day  of  Pentecost  broke  the  seals  and  disclosed  to  them  its 
sacred  depths.  And  to  this  day  it  is  the  Spirit  only  that  opens 
the  understanding  and  solves  the  difficulty.  Without  him,  we 
may  listen  to  the  article  of  reconciliation  by  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb,  and  perhaps  even  know  how  to  preach  it.  But  it  is  only 
possessed  as  a  barren  idea,  a  dogmatic  formula,  a  dead  thing  of 
thought,  and  will  be  of  no  benefit  to  us.  It  is  only  thoroughly 
understood,  seriously  believed,  and  vitally  apprehended  as  the 
basis  of  hope  and  salvation,  when  the  Spirit  of  Grace  brings  it 
near,  and  expounds  it  to  the  contrite  heart. 

The  confusion  caused  by  Simon's  thought' ess  assault  is  inde- 
scribable. The  whole  scene  suddenly  changes.  The  troop, 
drawing  their  swords,  now  prepare  also  for  the  conflict,  and  the 
sacred  soil  of  Gethsemane  is  or  the  point  of  being  transformed 
into  a  battle-field.  A  shriller  discord  could  not  have  interrupted 
the  entire  purpose  of  Jesus,  than  arose  out  of  that  inconsiderate 
attempt.     To  all  appearance,  Peter  had  for  the  moment,  drawn 


144  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

his  Master  entirely  out  of  his  path ;  and  in  what  danger  had  the 
thoughtless  disciple,  by  his  foolish  act,  involved  the  Eleven,  who 
formed  the  tender  germ  of  the  Lord's  future  Church!  They 
would  doubtless  have  been  together  overthrown  and  slain  with- 
out mercy,  had  not  the  Lord  again  interfered  at  the  right 
moment.  But  it  is  easy  for  him  to  unloose  the  most  compli- 
cated knots.  The  repairing  what  we  have  injured  has  ever 
been  his  vocation,  and  is  so  still. 

Scarcely  had  the  lamentable  blow  been  struck,  when  the 
Saviour  stepped  forward,  and  while  turning  to  the  armed  band, 
rebuked  the  storm  in  some  measure,  by  these  words — "  Suffer 
ye  thus  far" — that  is,  "  Grant  me  a  short  time,  until  I  have 
done  what  I  intend."  It  is  a  request  for  a  truce,  in  order  that 
the  wounded  man  may  be  healed.  Be  astonished,  here  again, 
at  the  humility,  calmness,  and  self-possession  which  the  Lord 
exhibits  even  in  the  most  complicated  situations  and  confusing 
circumstances,  never  forgetting  what  is  becoming,  and  what 
belongs  to  his  office  and  calling.  Even  in  the  reckless  troops, 
he  honors  the  magistracy  they  represent;  and  does  not  order 
and  command,  but  only  requests  them  for  a  moment  to  delay 
seizing  his  person.  And  how  willingly  does  he  again,  in  this 
instance,  bow  to  his  heavenly  Father's  counsels,  according  to 
which,  he  was  to  be  deprived  of  his  liberty  and  subjected  to  the 
power  of  his  adversaries!  What  silent  admiration  must  his 
meek  and  tranquil  submission  have  produced  in  the  minds  of  his 
foes! 

By  a  significant  silence,  they  gave  their  assent  to  his  wish. 
But  how  they  are  astonished  on  seeing  the  Lord  kindly  inclining 
to  Malchus,  and  touching  his  wounded  ear  with  his  healing 
hand,  when  the  blood  instantaneously  ceases  to  flow,  and  the 
ear  is  restored  uninjured  to  its  place!  We  are  also  aston- 
ished at  this  miracle — the  last  and  not  the  smallest,  by  wllicl 
the  Saviour  manifested  himself  on  earth,  as  the  God-man. 
And  we  admire  in  it,  not  merely  his  power,  which  shines  forth 
so  gloriously,  but  likewise  his  love,  which  did  not  exclude  even 
his  enemies  from  its  beneficial  operation,  as  well  as  his  care  of 
his  disciples,  whom,  by  the  healing  of  Malchus,  he  secured  from 
the  sanguinary  revenge  of  the  murderous  troop.     Nor  must  we 


TIIE   SWOED   AND   THE   CUP.  145 

overlook  tlie  wise  foretliouglit  with  which  the  Lord,  by  tin's 
charitable  act,  defends  his  kingdom  for  the  future  from  all  mis- 
understanding as  to  its  real  nature.  It  is  not  a  kingdom  of  this 
world,  but  one  in  which  revenge  is  silent,  meekness  heaps  coals  of 
fire  on  the  adversary's  head,  and  where  evil  is  recompensed  with 
good. 

While  the  Lord  was  stretching  out  his  healing  hand  to  the 
wounded  man,  he  opens  his  mouth  to  Peter,  and  utters,  for  the 
instruction  of  every  future  age,  the  highly  important  words  re- 
ing  the  use  of  the  sword,  his  voluntary  abasement  for  sin- 
ners, and  his  unconditional  submission  to  his  Father's  will. 

He  begins  by  saying,  "  Put  up  thy  sword  again  into  its  place  , 
for  all  they  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  with  the  sword." 
A  serious  warning,  which  must  have  rolled  like  thunder  over 
Simon's  head.  Few  are  aware  that  according  to  the  views  of 
some  parties  in  the  Christian  Church,  this  passage  altogether 
prohibits  the  use  of  the  sword.  But  Scripture  must  be  com- 
pared with  Scripture,  and  what  is  termed  "the  analogy  of 
faith,"  is  the  first  principle  of  biblical  exposition.  In  the  words 
above  mentioned,  our  Lord  gives  us  a  hint  that  the  sword  has 
also  "its  place,"  where  it  may  justly  leave  the  scabbard;  and 
hence  "the  powers  that  be"  are  described  in  Rom.  xiii.  4,  as 
"not  bearing  the  sword  in  vain,"  seeing  that  they  are  "the 
ministers  of  God,  and  revengers  to  execute  wrath  upon  him  that 
doeth  evil."  Now,  if  they  commit  the  sword  to  any  one — 
whether  to  the  executioner,  the  soldier,  or  to  a  private  indivi- 
dual for  his  own  defense :  it  is  then  drawn  in  a  proper  manner ; 
while  in  the  two  first-mentioned  instances,  the  responsibility 
attaches  solely  to  them ;  but  the  sword  is  unconditionally  and  in 
every  case  withdrawn  from  private  revenge,  which  is  something 
essentially  different  from  self-defense. 

Least  of  all  is  the  sword  in  its  place,  with  reference  to  the 
interests  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  There,  on  the  contrary,  the 
Wcrds  arc  applicable,  "Not  by  might,  nor  by  power;  but  by 
my  Spirit,  saith  the  Lord !  The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not 
carnal,  but  mighty,  through  God,  to  the  pulling  down  of  strong- 
holds." There  the  victory  is  gained  by  the  power  of  the  testi- 
mony, by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  by  the  patience  of  the 

1 


146  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

saints.  The  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the  Church,  am: 
not  the  blood  of  "  heretics."  The  Church  of  Rome,  alas !  has 
selected  the  worst  thing  out  of  the  legacy  of  her  patron,  Peter, 
namely  his  sword — not,  however,  in  accordance  with  our  Lord's 
impressive  command,  to  return  the  sword  to  its  place,  but  in 
the  strongest  contradiction  to  it,  having  drawn  and  brandished 
it  in  order  to  smite.  The  weapons  of  Popish  warfare  have 
always  been  "carnal" — bulls  of  excommunication,  interdicts, 
tortures,  Auto-da-fes,  and  scaffolds.  Hence  they  have  estab- 
lished only  a  worldly  church,  which  resembles  the  kingdom  of 
Christ  as  little  as  a  natural  man  does  one  that  is  born  of  the 
Spirit ;  it  being  more  an  institution  of  the  State  than  a  Church, 
more  like  Hagar  than  Sarah,  bringing  forth  only  bond-servants 
and  not  children ;  and  worse  than  the  Galatians,  it  has  not  only 
begun  in  the  flesh,  but  seems  willing  to  end  in  it  also.  The 
words  of  our  Lord,  "  The  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against 
it,"  do  not  at  least  refer  to  her,  but  to  the  true  Church,  the 
members  of  which  are  born  of  water  and  the  Spirit.  The  latter 
conquer  while  succumbing,  and  endure  hardness,  as  good 
soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  true  Church  has  indeed  to  do 
with  "  coals  of  fire,"  but  heaps  them  on  the  head  of  her  oppo- 
nents only  by  the  exercise  of  love.  Her  laurel  wreath  is  the 
crown  of  thorns,  and  meekness  is  her  weapon.  If  reviled,  she 
blesses;  if  persecuted,  she  suffers  it;  if  defamed,  she  entreats 
(1  Cor.  iv.  12,  13).  She  takes  to  heart  the  saying  of  Peter 
(1  Epis.  iv.  14) :  u  If  ye  be  reproached  for  the  name  of  Christ, 
happy  are  ye ;  for  the  Spirit  of  Glory  and  of  God  resteth  upon 
you."  Thus  she  overcomes  by  submission,  and  prepares  a 
triumph  for  Christ  by  her  triumph  over  herself;  and  either 
fights  her  battles  like  the  sun,  which  dispels  the  mists,  and 
causes  them  to  descend  in  fructifying  dew-drops,  or  like  the 
anvil,  which  does  not  strike  itself,  but  can  not  prevent  the 
hammers,  which  fall  upon  it,  from  being  split  to  pieces. 

In  this  mode  of  passive  overcoming,  by  which  alone  the 
world  is  conquered  and  brought  into  subjection  to  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  the  latter  himself  is  our  forerunner  and  leader.  Hear 
what  he  says,  "  Put  up  thy  sword  again  into  its  place ;  for  all 
they  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  with  the  sword.     The 


THE    SWORD    AM)    HIE    CUP.  147 

cup,  which  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?  Or 
thinkest  thou  that  I  can  not  now  pray  to  my  Father,  and  he 
■hall  give  me  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels  ?  But  how 
then  should  the  Scriptures  be  fulfilled,  that  thus  it  must  be  ?" 

0  what  a  profound  and  comprehensive  view  is  here  afforded 
us  into  our  Lord's  sublime  knowledge  of  his  Divine  Sonship  1 
How  the  vail  of  Ins  abject  form  is  here  drawn  aside,  and  how 
does  the  whole  majesty  of  the  only-begotten  Son  of  the  Father 
again  display  itself  before  us  like  a  flash  of  lightning  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night !  He  continues  the  same  in  the  obscurest 
depths  of  humiliation;  and  in  the  consciousness  of  his  Divine 
dignity,  always  rises  superior  to  the  opposite  appearance  in 
which  he  is  enveloped.  He  is  sure  of  nothing  so  much  as  this, 
that  if  he  would,  he  had  only  to  ask,  and  the  Father  would 
send  twelve  legions  of  angels  for  his  protection  (consequently  a 
legion  for  each  of  the  little  company).  How  must  Peter,  on 
hearing  these  words  from  his  Master,  have  felt  ashamed  for 
imagining  that,  if  he  did  not  interfere,  the  latter  would  be  left 
helpless  and  forsaken.  How  severely  is  this  foolish  thought 
reproved  by  the  words,  "  Thinkest  thou  not."  For  Simon 
knows  that  his  Lord  is  not  wont  to  use  empty  phrases,  and 
that  he  must,  therefore,  take  the  words  concerning  the  celestial 
powers  that  stood  at  his  command,  in  their  literal  sense;  and 
yet  the  idea  could  occur  to  him  that  he  must  deliver  such  a 
Master  from  a  handful  of  armed  mortals,  as  though  he  were 
utterly  defenseless !     What  unbelief !     What  delusion ! 

But  was  it  really  in  the  Lord's  power  to  withdraw  himself 
from  his  sufferings  by  angelic  aid  ?  Without  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt.  Having  voluntarily  resolved  upon  the  great  under- 
taking, he  could,  at  any  moment,  have  freely  and  without 
obstruction,  withdrawn  from  it.  Every  idea  of  compulsion  from 
without  must  be  banished  far  from  the  doing  and  suffering  of 
our  Redeemer.  Hence,  there  is  scarcely  a  moment  in  his  whole 
life,  in  which  his  love   for  our  fallen  race   is   more   gloriously 

ianifested  than  in  that  on  which  we  are  now  meditating.     A 
■avriily  host,  powerful  enough  to  stretch  a  world  of  adversaries 
the  dust,  stands  behind  the  screen  of  clouds,  waiting  at  his 
;ck,  and  burning  with  desire  to  be  permitted  to  interfere  for 


148  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

him  and  triumphantly  liberate  him  from  the  hands  of  the  wicked , 
while  he,  though  ill-treated  and  oppressed,  refuses  their  aid, 
and  again  repeats,  more  emphatically  by  the  action  than  by 
words,  "  Father,  thy  will,  and  not  mine,  be  done !"  "  Thus  it 
must  be,"  says  he.  Carefully  observe  also  this  renewed  testi- 
mony to  the  indispensable  necessity  of  his  passion.  "  How, 
then,  shall  the  Scriptures  be  fulfilled,"  he  adds.  The  words  of 
Moses  and  the  prophets  are  "  a  lamp  unto  his  feet,  and  a  light 
unto  his  path."  His  language  still  is,  "  The  cup  which  my  Father 
hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it?"  Great  and  momentous 
words !     Let  us  spend  a  few  moments  in  meditating  on  them. 

A  cup  is  a  vessel  which  has  its  appointed  measure,  and  is 
limited  by  its  rim.  The  Saviour  several  times  refers  to  the  cup 
that  was  appointed  for  him.  In  Matt.,  xx.  22,  he  asks  his 
disciples,  "  Are  ye  able  to  drink  of  the  cup  that  I  shall  drink 
of?"  By  the  cup,  he  understood  the  bitter  draught  of  his 
passion  which  had  been  assigned  him.  We  heard  him  ask  in 
G-ethsemane,  at  the  commencement,  if  it  were  not  possible  that 
the  cup  might  pass  from  him;  and  here  we  find  him  men- 
tioning, with  the  most  unmoved  self-possession,  "  the  cup  which 
his  Father  had  given  him."  "We  know  what  was  in  the  cup. 
All  its  contents  would  have  been  otherwise  measured  out  to  us 
by  divine  justice  on  account  of  sin.  In  the  cup  was  the 
entire  curse  of  the  inviolable  law,  all  the  horrors  of  conscious 
guilt,  all  the  terrors  of  Satan's  fiercest  temptations,  and  all  the 
sufferings  which  can  befall  both  body  and  soul.  It  contained 
likewise  the  dreadful  ingredients  of  abandonment  by  God,  in- 
fernal agony,  and  a  bloody  death,  to  which  the  curse  was 
attached — all  which  was  to  be  endured  while  surrounded  by 
the  powers  of  darkness. 

Here  we  learn  to  understand  what  is  implied  in  the  words, 
"  Who  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  freely  gave  him  up  for  us 
all."  "  The  Lord  laid  on  Him  the  iniquities  of  us  all."  "  I  will 
smite  the  Shepherd,  and  the  sheep  shall  be  scattered."  il  Christ 
hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being  made  a  curse 
for  us."  "  God  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us  who  knew  no  sin." 
All  that  mankind  have  heaped  up  to  themselves  against  the  day 
of  God's  holy  and  righteous  wrath — their  forgetfulness  of  God — 


OFFERING   AND   SACRIFICE.  149 

their  selfish  conduct — their  disobedience,  pride,  worldly-minded- 
Bess — their  filthy  lusts,  hypocrisy,  falsehood,  hard-heartedness, 
and  deceit — all  are  united  and  mingled  in  this  cup,  and  ferment 

her  into  a  horrible  potion.  "Shall  I  not  drink  this  cup?" 
asks  the  Saviour.  "Yes,"  we  reply,  "Empty  it,  beloved  Im- 
manuel !  we  will  kiss  thy  feet,  and  offer  up  ourselves  to  thee 
upon  thy  holy  altar!"  He  has  emptied  it,  and  not  a  drop 
remains  for  his  people.  The  satisfaction  he  rendered  was  com- 
plete, the  reconciliation  effected.     "There  is  now  no  condem- 

D  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk  not  after  the 
flesh,  but  after  the  spirit."  The  curse  no  longer  falls  upon  them. 
"  The  chastisement  of  our  peace  lay  upon  him,  and  by  Ins  stripes 

are  healed,"  and  nothing  now  remains  for  us  but  to  sing 
HaMujahl 


XVII. 

OFFERING    AND    SACRIFICE. 

We  shall  confine  our  present  meditation  to  the  state  of  resigna- 
tion in  which  we  left  our  great  High  Priest,  at  the  close  of  the 
.ast  chapter.  He  yields  himself  up  to  his  adversaries,  and  suf- 
fers them  to  act  with  him  as  they  please ;  and  this  very  circum- 
stance is  for  us  of  the  greatest  and  most  beneficial  importance. 
His  situation  is  deeply  affecting.  Imagine,  as  might  actually 
have  been  the  case,  that  immediately  after  the  occurrences  at 
Gethsemane  a  messenger  had  hastened  to  Jerusalem  to  inform 
his  mother  Mary  of  what  had  just  befallen  her  son,  outside  the 
gates  of  the  city.  What  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  the 
distressed  woman!  "What?"  she  would  doubtless  have  ex- 
claimed, "  Has  this  happened  to  my  child — is  he  in  such  a  situa- 
tion who  was  the  best  of  sons — the  Holy  One,  who  is  love 
assaulted  like  a  criminal — the  benefactor  of  mankind, 
their  tenderly  susceptible  and  gracious  Saviour,  covered  with 
such  undeserved  disgrace,  and  in  the  hands,  and  even  in  the 
fetters  of  jailors?"      It  would  certainly  have    seemed    to    Ins 


150  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

grieved  parent  as  if  she  had  only  dreamed  of  such  horrible 
things;  and  on  receiving  a  confirmation  of  the  painful  intelli- 
gence, can  you  suppose  any  thing  else  than  that  she  would  en- 
tirely lose  all  command  over  ■  herself,  and  burst  into  loud  lament- 
ations and  floods  of  bitter  tears  ? 

It  is  from  such  a  point  of  view  that  we  ought  to  contemplate 
the  occurrence  at  Gethsemane,  in  order  to  feel  and  comprehend 
it  fully.  And  that  you  may  view  it  in  a  still  more  lively  man 
ner,  imagine  to  yourselves  with  what  feelings  the  holy  angel 
must  have  witnessed  their  Lord  being  thus  taken  prisoner— 
they  whom  the  Saviour's  humiliation  never  for  a  moment  pre- 
vented from  being  conscious  of  his  real  character  and  dignity; 
and  who,  wherever  he  went,  perceived  in  him  the  Lord  of  Glory 
and  the  King  of  kings,  before  whose  throne  they  only  ventured 
to  approach  with  vailed  faces.  Let  us  realize,  if  possible,  what 
they  must  have  felt  at  that  moment,  when,  looking  down  from 
the  clouds,  they  saw  the  High  and  Lofty  One  surounded  by 
the  officers,  as  if  he  had  *been  the  vilest  of  criminals;  the 
Prince  of  heaven  taken  captive  with  SAVords  and  staves ;  the 
Judge  of  the  world  fettered  like  a  murderer,  and  then  dragged 
away  under  the  escort  of  a  crowd  of  ruthless  men  amid 
blasphemies  and  curses,  to  be  put  upon  his  trial!  May  not 
a  cry  of  horror  have  rung  through  heaven,  and  the  idea  have 
occurred  to  those  holy  beings  that  the  measure  of  human  wick- 
edness was  now  full,  and  that  the  day  of  vengeance  on  the 
ungodly  earth  had  arrived?  We  can  so  easily  forget,  in  his 
appearance  as  a  man,  whom  it  is  that  we  have  before  us  in 
the  humbled  individual  of  Nazareth ;  and  it  is  only  now  and 
then  that  it  flashes  through  our  minds  who  he  really  is.  But 
then  our  hearts  become  petrified  with  amazement,  and  we  can 
only  fold  our  hands  in  silent  astonishment. 

But  however  dreadful  Ms  position  may  be,  the  Saviour  bears 
with  composure  these  outrageous  proceedings.  He  delivers 
himself  up,  and  to  whom? — to  the  armed  band,  the  officers 
and  servants.  But  we  are  witnesses  here  of  another  yielding  up 
of  himself,  and  one  that  is  vailed  and  invisible  ;  and  the  latter  is 
of  incomparably  greater  importance  to  us  than  that  which  is 
apparent  to  the  outward  senses.     Christ  here  gives  himself  up 


OFFERING  AND   SACRIFICE.  151 

to  his  Father,  first,  as  "an  offering"  (Ephes.  v.  2),  and  such  a 
one  as  will  doubtless  satisfy  the  Father.  How  shall  we  suf- 
ficiently  appreciate  the  excellency  of  this  offering?  Behold  him, 
tln-n,  as  One  against  whom  all  hell  may  be  let  loose  without 
being  able  to  cast  the  slightest  blemish  on  his  innocence ;  as 
One  who  endured  the  fiercest  ordeal  without  the  smallest  trace 
of  dross ;  who  boldly  withstood  the  storm  of  temptation,  which 
only  served  the  more  rapidly  to  perfect  his  obedience ;  who,  in 
a  state  of  the  most  painful  inward  privations,  preserved,  unshaken, 
his  love  to  his  Father ;  and  although  his  Father's  heart  seemed 
turned  away  from  him,  yet  regarded  it,  as  before,  as  his  meat 
and  drink  to  do  the  will  of  Him  who  sent  him;  who,  in  a  situa- 
tion in  which  acute  agony  forced  him  to  sweat  blood,  could 
theless  pray  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  that  not  what  he 
d,  but  what  the  Eternal  Father  wished  and  had  deter- 
mined respecting  him,  might  take  place.  Such  is  the  dazzlingly 
pare,  immutably  holy,  and  severely  tested  offering,  which  Christ 
in  his  own  person  presents  to  the  Father. 

Kegard  him  now  as  submitting  himself,  not  only  to  the  dis- 
grace of  a  public  arrest,  but  also  to  the  fate  of  a  common  delin- 
quent, in  obedience  to  his  Father's  will.  But  how  willingly 
does  this  conviction  cause  him  to  descend  to  such  a  depth,  and 
unhesitatingly  to  resign  himself  into  the  hands  of  sinners  !  Hear 
him  address  his  enemies.  With  the  majesty,  freedom,  and 
sublime  composure  of  One  who,  far  from  being  overwhelmed  by 
that  which  befalls  him,  marks  out  himself  the  path  on  which  he 
is  to  walk,  and  who,  in  accordance  with  his  Father's  counsel, 
ordains  his  fate  himself;  he  says  to  the  multitude,  and  especially 
to  their  leaders,  the  chief  priests,  and  the  captains  of  the  Jewish 
miple-guard,  and  to  the  elders,  the  assessors  of  the  Sanhedrim, 
10,  in  the  heat  of  their  enmity  to  Jesus,  had  come  out  with 
intention  of  encouraging  the  captors  by  their  presence, 
.re  ye  come  out  as  against  a  thief,  with  swords  and  staves 
take  me  ?  I  sat  daily  with  you,  teaching  in  the  temple,  and 
laid  no  hold  on  me,  nor  stretched  forth  your  hands  against 
le." 

Our  Lord,  by  these  words,  intends,  first,  that  they  shall  serve 
a  testimony,  not  merely  to  those  that  heard  them,  but  also  to 


152  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

the  whole  world,  that  he  was  led  guiltless  to  the  slaughter,  and 
that  the  shadow,  which  Peter's  smiting  with  the  sword  might 
have  cast  upon  him  and  his  adherents,  was  entirely  dispelled; 
and  next,  that  no  power  on  earth  would  have  been  able  to  over- 
come him,  had  he  not,  when  his  hour  was  come,  voluntarily 
yielded  up  himself  in  free  submission  to  his  Father's  wilL  Until 
he  had  completed  his  ministerial  office,  no  enemy  dared  to 
touch  him.  Nor  had  they  been  able  to  discover  any  thing  in 
him  which  might  have  enabled  them  to  prosecute  him.  The  in- 
visible barrier  is  now  removed.  "  This,"  continues  the  Saviour, 
to  the  profound  confusion  of  his  adversaries,  "this  is  your 
hour  and  the  power  of  darkness."  His  meaning  is,  "  By  an  act 
of  the  Divine  government  the  chain  of  Satan  has  been  lengthened, 
the  bridle  of  hell,  whose  armor-bearers  you  manifest  yourselves 
to  be,  has  been  removed,  that  it  may  do  with  me  as  it  pleases." 
"What  self-possession  and  divine  composure  are  in  these  words  ? 
"With  such  unreserved  willingness  does  he  yield  himself  up  to 
the  most  disgraceful  treatment.  Not  even  the  slightest  feeling 
of  a  disturbed  or  revengeful  affection  rises  up  within  him  against 
the  reprobates.  His  soul  continues  in  a  state  of  equanimity  and 
serenity,  just  as  if  they  were  not  jailers'  assistants,  who  bound 
him  with  cords,  but  followers  and  friends,  who  were  winding 
chaplets  for  him. 

But  what  benefit  do  we  derive  from  the  fact  of  Christ's  giving 
himself  up  so  completely  and  devotedly  to  the  Father?  The 
greatest  and  most  beatifying  of  which  thought  is  capable. 
Listen !  Jehovah  says  in  his  law,  "  Ye  shall  not  appear  befQre 
me  empty."  Consider,  that  if  we  wish  to  inherit  heaven,  we 
can  not  do  without  that,  to  which  salvation  is  promised  as  the 
reward.  We  now  possess  it,  and  the  days  of  our  grief  and 
shame  are  at  an  end.  We  may  now  boldly  appear  before  the 
Father,  and  need  no  longer  apprehend  any  thing  discouraging 
from  him  when  we  express  our  desire  that  he  should  love  us, 
and  open  the  gates  of  his  palace  to  us.  "But  what  have  we 
to  exhibit  to  him  that  is  meritorious  ?"  Sufficient,  my  readers- 
yea,  more  than  the  angels  possess.  We  have,  indeed,  nothing  of 
our  own.  In  the  records  of  our  lives  we  perceive  only  trans- 
gression anl  guilt.     But  God  be  thanked  that  we  need  nothing 


OFFERING   AND   SACRIFICE.  153 

of  our  own,  and  are  even  interdicted  from  trusting  and  depend- 
ing upon  any  thing  of  the  kind.     We  are  instructed  to  appeal  to 
tin-  righteousness  of  another,  and  this  is  the  living  "offering"  of 
which  we  speak — Christ,  with  the  entire  fullness  of  his  obedience 
in  our  stead.     If  he  was  accepted  so  are  we,  since  all  that  he  did 
and  suffered  is  placed  to  our  account.     For,  "as  by  one  man's 
M'dience  many    were   made   sinners,    so  by   the   obedience 
of  one  shall  many   be  made   righteous."      Those  who  are  in 
Christ  are  no  longer    transgressors  in  the   sight  of  God,   but 
blameless,  and  spotless.     What  a  blissful  mystery !     If  you 
a  nable   to   believe   it,    grant  it,    at    least,    a  place   in  your 
lory.     The  hour  may*come  in  which  you  will  be  able  to  use 
•-;■  we  have  often  had  occasion  to  witness  how  it  has  fared 
at  the  last  with  those  who  supposed  themselves  among  the  most 
and  holy  of  mankind.     Whatever  of  a  meritorious  and  ap- 
proved character  they  imagined  they  possessed,  nothing  remained 
when  the  light  of  eternity  and  approaching  judgment  threw  its 
penetrating  rays  upon   their  past  lives.     The  splendor  of  their 
virtues  expired,  their  gold  became  dim,  and  that  which  they  had 
preserved  as  real  worth,  proved  only  tinsel  and  valueless.     What 
is  to  be  done  in  such  a  case  ?     How  weave  together,  in  haste, 
such  a  righteousness  as  God  requires,  and  without  which  no  man 
can  enter  heaven  ?     What  answer  are  we  to  make  to  the  accusers 
that  open  their  mouths  against  us — Satan,  the  law,  and  our  own 
ences,  winch  say  to  us,   "Thou  art  the  man?"     Really,  if 
we  are  not  to  give  ourselves  up  to  despair,  something  which  is 
not  ours  must  be  bestowed  upon  us,  which  we  may  offer  unto 
Sod  as  the  ground  of  our  claim  to  salvation.     The  living  offer- 
ing which  Christ  made  of  himself  can  then  alone  suffice,  and 
that  abundantly,  to  recommend  us  to  God.     Possessing  this,  we 
no  longer  need  be  mute  in  the  presence  of  our  accusers.     In 
Christ,  as  our  Surety,  we  fulfilled   the   conditions  to  which  the 
uly  inheritance  is  attached.     Henceforth,  who  will  accuse 
rho  will   condemn  us?     We   rejoice   with  Paul,   and   say, 
"  Therefore,  being  justified  by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

The    Lord    Jesus  appears  in,   our  narrative,   not  only  as  an 
"  offering,"  bat  also  as  a  "  sacrifice."     Our  sins  are  imputed  to 


154  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

him,  and  in  his  sacred  humanity  he  endured  what  they  deserved. 
Let  us,  therefore,  now  consider  him  in  the  character  of  our  repre- 
sentative, and  the  sufferings  he  endured,  and  the  wrongs  he  sus- 
tained, will  then  appear  in  their  proper  light. 

A  horrible  scene  presents  itself  to  my  mind,  in  which  every 
one  ought  to  recognize  his  own  likeness.  I  see  a  murderer ;  for 
it  is  written,  "  He  that  hateth  his  brother  is  a  murderer."  I  per- 
ceive a  robber ;  one  who  is  guilty  in  two  respects  ;  toward  God, 
in  depriving  him,  by  unbelief  and  pride,  of  his  glory;  and 
toward  his  neighbor,  whom  he  has  injured  by  envy  or  evil- 
speaking.  Thus  the  curse  of  the  law  impends  over  him,  and  the 
divine  denunciations  attend  Ins  steps.*  A  dreadful  fate  awaits 
the  unhappy  mortal — first,  an  assault  in  an  hour  of  darkness,  and 
then  a  dreadful  arrest  and  captivity.  He  proceeds  for  a  while 
freely  and  securely  upon  his  path,  and  yields  obedience  to  his 
fleshly  lusts  fearing  no  evil.  But  before  he  is  aware,  the 
sentence  is  pronounced  over  him,  "  Put  in  the  sickle,  for  the 
harvest  is  ripe!"  Horrible  beings,  the  one  more  dreadful  than 
the  other,  put  themselves  in  motion.  The  day  has  disappeared, 
the  night  has  overtaken  the  man.  The  gloom  of  his  dying  hour 
envelops  him.  What  occurs?  In  what  situation  does  the 
miserable  being  find  himself?  Are  they  ministers  of  vengeance 
which  surround  him?  Are  they  demons  and  spirits  from  the 
pit  ?  He  hears  the  clashing  of  irons  and  the  clanking  of  chains 
and  fetters.  He  finds  himself  in  the  power  of  another,  sur- 
rounded, seized,  and  apprehended.  He  can  no  longer  go  where 
he  likes.  A  horrible  guard  take  him  between  them,  and  an 
iron  necessity  indicates  to  him  the  way  that  he  must  take.  As 
long  as  he  sojourned  on  earth,  it  was,  perhaps,  only  the  flatter- 
ing voice  of  applause  and  commendation  that  reached  his  ears. 
The  hour  of  his  accusers  now  arrives,  and  he  hears  on  every 
side  the  thundering  accusation,  "  Thou  art  the  man !"  Hitherto 
he  had  experienced  so  little  annoyance  from  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness that  he  thought  himself  at  liberty  to  doubt  their  existence. 
They  now  emerge  from  their  hiding-places,  and  he  learns  to 
believe  in  the  devil,  now  that  he  finds  himself  in  his  power. 
For  it  is  he,  and  his  infernal  bands,  who  have  fallen  upon  him, 
in  the  midst  of  his  fancied  security,  in  order  that  they  may  bind 


OFFERING   AND   SACRIFICE.  155 

him  in  chains  of  darkness,  and  drag  the  resisting  criminal,  with 
yells  of  execration,  thither,  where  he  will  be  reserved  for  t^hat 
burning  day,  when  the  Judge  of  the  world  will  pronounce  the 
final  sentence,  even  the  dreadful  words,  "Depart  from  me,  ye 
cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels!"  Such  is  the  horrible  future  which  presents  itself  to 
my  mind.  It  is  no  empty  product  of  a  heated  imagination,  but 
contains  in  it  real  truth  and  substance ;  for  in  this  representa- 
tion we  each  behold  ourselves,  as  in  our  natural  state,  and  are 
conscious  of  the  curse,  which,  as  long  as  we  remain  in  it,  im- 
over  us,  and  the  gloomy  fate  that  awaits  us. 

But  to  return  to  our  narrative.  What  does  it  present  to  us 
but  a  picture  resembling  in  every  feature  that  which  Ave  have 
just  been  contemplating?  How  wonderful  and  striking  is  tins 
circumstance !  We  see  at  the  entrance  to  Gethsemane  one  who 
would  seem  to  be  nothing  better  "than  a  robber  and  a  murderer. 
In  the  dead  of  night  he  is  set  upon  by  order  of  the  public  author- 
with  swords  and  spears,  surrounded  by  an  armed  band, 
and  taken  prisoner.  And  what  is  the  language  of  the  captive? 
"  This,"  he  exclaims,  "  is  your  hour ;"  by  which  he  means  to 
say,  "You,  my  adversaries,  have  full  liberty  to  deal  with  me 
as  you  please.  Fall  upon  me,  accuse  me,  disgrace  me,  and  drag 
me  to  the  scaffold ;  I  am  at  your  mercy."  And  then  he  says 
further,  "  This  is  the  power  of  darkness" — the  meaning  of  which 
is,  "  Hell  is  now  granted  free  access  to  me,  and  can  do  with  me 
as  it  likes ;  for  by  a  judicial  decision  I  am  given  up  to  its  power." 
And  lo,  the  man  is  actually  seized,  bound  like  a  dangerous  male- 
factor, dragged  with  rude  threats  before  the  bar  of  judgment, 
and  ere  long  we  shall  hear  him  cry,  in  the  deepest  distress, 
"My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?" 

We  here  see  the  same  situation  and  fate  as  we  saw  before  was 
the  deserved  lot  of  every  individual  sinner.  And  who  is  the 
man  on  whom  those  horrors  are  poured  out  ?  One  who  is  igno- 
rant of  it  would  say  "Who  can  he  be  but  a  criminal  of  the 
worst  description?"  And  this  would  be  relatively  correct  He 
who  is  arrested  is  such  a  one,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  "the 
and  the  Just"  How  this  can  agree  together  is  intimated 
by  Paul,  in  the  well-known  words,  "God  made  him  to  be  sin 


156  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

for  us,  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteous- 
ness of  God  in  him." 

A  blissful  and  heart-cheering  mystery  is  here  presented  before 
us.  If  I  possess  saving  faith,  I  find  myself  in  a  peculiar  relation 
to  the  sufferer  at  Gethsemane.  For  know  that  the  horrors  he 
there  experienced  are  not  his  curse  but  mine.  The  Holy  and 
the  Just  submits  himself,  representatively,  to  the  fate  of  the 
guilty  and  the  damnable;  while  the  latter  are  forever  liberated, 
and  inherit  the  lot  of  the  holy  Son  of  G-od.  Wonderful  and 
incomparably  blissful  truth!  Our  only  shield  and  comfort  in 
life  and  death ! 

O  ye  blessed,  who  belong  to  Christ,  who  can  worthily  de- 
scribe the  glory  of  your  state !  We  hail  the  wondrous  exchange 
which  the  eternal  Son  of  God  has  made  with  you.  We  glorify 
the  Surety  and  the  Liquidator  of  your  debts.  Never  forget  the 
nocturnal  arrest  of  your  High  Priest.  Paint  it,  in  bright  and 
vivid  colors,  on  the  walls  of  your  chambers.  If  you  are  again 
reminded  of  the  curse  which  your  sins  had  brought  upon  you, 
accustom  yourselves  to  regard  it  only  in  this  sacred  picture, 
where  you  no  longer  behold  it  lying  upon  you,  but  upon  him,  in 
whose  agonies  it  eternally  perished. 

Therefore,  let  not  shadows  any  longer  disturb  you.  There 
will  never  be  a  period  in  eternity  when  you  will  be  compelled  to 
say  to  your  enemies  and  accusers,  "  Now  is  your  hour  and  the 
power  of  darkness."  Your  representative  uttered  it,  once  for 
all,  for  you;  and  henceforward  only  the  hour  of  triumph  and 
delight,  which  shall  never  end,  awaits  you.  Peace  be  with  you, 
therefore,  ye  who  are  justified  by  his  righteousness,  and  forever 
perfected  by  his  one  offering!  No  longer  dream  of  imaginary 
burdens,  but  know  and  never  forget  that  your  suit  is  gained  to 
all  eternity.  Behold  Christ  yonder  bears  your  fetters;  and 
nothing  more  is  required  of  you  than  to  love  him  with  all  your 
heart,  and  embrace  him  more  and  more  closely  who  took  your 
entire  anathema  upon  himself,  that  you  might  be  able  eternally 
to  rejoice  and  exclaim,  "Jehovah  Zidkenu — the  Lord  our 
Righteousness." 


XVIII. 

CHRIST    BEFORE    ANNAS. 

The  armed  band  have  executed  their  object,  with  regard  to 
Christ,  and  the  Eleven,  perceiving  it,  have  fled  to  the  right  and 
lrl't.  A  young  man  who  also  belonged  to  the  little  flock,  and 
Led  near,  having  heard  the  tumult,  in  holy  indignation 
against  the  banditti,  had  hastened  from  his  couch  to  the  revolt- 
ing scene,  in  his  night-dress.  But  no  sooner  was  he  observed 
by  the  mercenaries,  than  he  was  laid  hold  of,  and  only  escaped 
from  bonds  and  probably  even  death,  by  leaving  in  their  hands 
his  linen  covering,  and  fleeing  away  naked.  This  little  circum- 
stance is  related  by  one  of  the  Evangelists,  doubtless  in  order  to 
point  out  and  excuse  the  flight  of  the  disciples,  as  rendered  im- 
perative by  the  most  imminent  danger. 

Surrounded  by  a  bristling  forest  of  swords  and  spears,  the 
Lord  Jesus  suffered  his  hands  to  be  bound,  like  a  captive 
robber,  by  a  troop  of  rude  mercenaries,  in  the  name  of  public 
justice.  Think  of  those  hands  being  bound  which  were  never 
extended  except  to  heal  and  aid,  to  benefit  and  save,  and  never 
to  injure,  except  it  be  considered  as  a  crime  to  uncover  to  man- 
kind their  wounds,  in  order  to  heal  and  bind  them  up;  to 
destroy  the  Babels  of  delusion,  and  in  their  place  to  erect  the 
temple  of  truth;  and  to  pull  down  the  altars  of  false  gods,  in 
order  to  make  room  for  that  of  the  only  true  God. 

Jesus  bound !  What  a  spectacle !  How  many  a  prophetic 
type  of  the  Old  Testament  finds  its  fulfillment  in  tins  fact !  If 
you  inquire  for  the  antitype  of  Isaac,  when  bound  by  his 
father  as  a  lamb  for  a  burnt  offering ;  or  for  that  of  the  ram  on 
Mount  Moriah,  which  was  caught  in  the  thicket  because  God 
had  destined  it  for  the  sacrifice ;  or  of  the  sacred  ark  of  the 
covenant,  when  it  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Philistines, 
only,  however,  to  cast  down  the  idols  of  the  latter ;  or  of  that  of 
Jacob's  son,  arrested  and  imprisoned  in  Egypt,  whose  path  lay 


158  THE    HOLT   PLACE. 

through  the  company  of  criminals,  to  almost  regal  dignity  and 
crowns  of  honor;  or  for  that  of  the  paschal  lambs,  which,  be- 
fore being  slaughtered  for  the  sins  of  the  people,  were  wont  to 
be  tied  up  to  the  threshold  of  the  temple ;  or  finally,  for  that 
of  the  captive  Samson,  who  derided  Delilah's  band,  and  came 
forth  victoriously  from  the  conflict  with  the  Philistines — all 
these  types  and  shadows  found  their  entire  fulfillment  in  Jesus, 
thus  bound,  as  their  embodied  original  and  antitype. 

Jesus  bound !  Can  we  trust  our  eyes  ?  Omnipotence  in 
fetters,  the  Creator  bound  by  the  creature ;  the  Lord  of  the 
world,  the  captive  cf  his  mortal  subjects !  How  much  easier 
would  it  have  been  for  him  to  have  burst  those  bonds  than 
Manoah's  son  of  old  !  However,  he  rends  them  not ;  but  yields 
himself  up  to  them  as  one  who  is  powerless  and  overcome. 
This  his  passive  deportment  must  have  for  its  basis  a  great  and 
sublime  intention.  And  such  is  really  the  case,  as  we  have 
already  seen. 

Behold  them  marching  off  in  triumph  with  their  captive. 
They  conduct  him  first  to  Annas,  the  previous  high  priest,  the 
father-in-law  of  Caiaphas,  a  sinner  of  a  hundred  years  old.  But 
why  first  to  Mm  ?  Perhaps  out  of  compliment  to  the  old  man, 
who  probably  wished  to  see  the  fanatic  of  Nazareth.  His  being 
brought  before  him,  however,  seems  to  have  been  the  result  of 
a  secret  arrangement  between  him  and  his  son-in-law ;  and  he, 
the  old  Sadducee,  was  perhaps  more  deeply  interested  in  the 
whole  affair  with  Jesus  than  outwardly  appears  to  be  the  case. 
The  preliminary  hearing,  which  now  commenced,  was  doubtless 
instituted  by  him,  and  not  by  Caiaphas.  Even  the  irregular 
course  which  it  takes,  places  this  beyond  a  doubt.  What  ap- 
pears in  the  Gospels  to  contradict  tins  assumption,  loses  all  its 
importance,  as  soon  as  we  suppose — for  which  there  is  sufficient 
reason — that  Annas  was  residing  in  the  high-priestly  palace 
with  his  son-in-law. 

Thus,  the  Lord  stands  at  the  bar  of  his  first  judge — one  of 
those  miserable  men,  of  whom,  alas !  not  a  few  are  to  be  found 
among  us,  and  who,  "  twice  dead,"  estranged  from  the  truth 
of  God,  and  satisfied  with  the  most  common-place  occurrences 
of  life,  think  of  nothing  better,  but  treat  the  most  sublime  tilings 


CHRIST  BEFORE   ANNAS.  159 

at  least  only  as  a  spectacle;  and  in  their  perfect  unsuscepti- 
bility  for  eveiy  thing  that  is  divine,  visibly  bear  on  their  fore- 
heads the  brandmark  of  the  curse.  Certainly,  it  was  not  one 
of  the  least  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  to 
see  himself  delivered  into  the  hands  of  such  a  man,  so 
destitute  of  every  noble  feeling.  And  only  look  how  the  hoary- 
headed  sinner  domineers  over  and  puffs  himself  up  against  the 
Lord  of  Glory,  although  he  is  not  even  the  actual  high  priest, 
and  while  he  was  so,  presented  only  an  airy  shadow  of  the  true 
High  Priest,  who,  Priest  and  King  at  the  same  time,  stands  now 
before  him,  in  the  person  of  the  captive  Nazarene !  Jesus, 
however,  endures  with  resignation  all  the  indignities  to  which 
he  is  subjected,  and  we  know  for  what  reason  he  does  so.  We 
are  acquainted  with  the  mysterious  position  he  occupies,  in 
which,  he  not  only  shows  us,  by  his  own  example,  that  his 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  and  that  honor  is  something 
different  from  what  the  world  is  wont  to  characterize  by  that 
name,  but  also  that  he  fills  it  as  our  Surety,  whom  it  became  to 
present,  to  the  Eternal  Father,  the  sublime  virtues  of  a  perfect 
self-denial  and  resignation  in  our  stead,  and  in  opposition  to  our 
ungodly  self-exaltation. 

Annas  proceeds  with  the  hearing  of  the  case,  and  interrogates 
our  Lord  respecting  his  disciples  and  his  doctrine.  He  hopes 
that  the  statements  of  Jesus  may  enable  him  to  bring  an  accu- 
sation against  the  former  as  a  politically  dangerous  association, 
and  against  the  latter  as  being  a  wicked  and  blasphemous 
heresy.  In  his  questions,  he  is  presumptuous  enough  to  treat 
our  Lord  as  the  disguised  head  of  a  party,  and  a  secret  plotter, 
notwithstanding  that  he  brought  forward  his  cause  in  the  most 
public  manner,  and  walked  every  where  in  broad  daylight.  But 
the  world  still  acts  like  Annas.  Because  it  will  not  acknowl- 
edge that  we  possess  the  real  and  eternal  truth  of  G-od :  ii 
stamps  the  latter  as  neretical,  and  brands  us  as  a  sect.  The 
world  can  not  bear  that  believers  should  call  themselves  "  true 
Christians,"  and  never  fails  to  attach  some  opprobrious  epithet 
to  them.  However  boldly  we  may  preach  our  doctrine,  and 
however  completely  we  may  prove  that  we  confess  and  believe 
nothing  else  than  what  the  whole  Christian  Church  has  believed 


1G0  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

and  professed  before  us,  and  for  which  the  noblest  and  most 
excellent  of  men  in  every  age  have  blissfully  lived  and  died — 
yet  the  world  persists  in  mantaining  that  our  faith  is  only  the 
religion  of  conventicles,  and  we  ourselves  only  narrow-minded 
fanatics.  It  strives,  by  these  artful  suspicions,  to  keep  the 
truth,  with  its  goads  and  nails,  far  from  it,  and  thus  to  give 
its  ungodly  and  carnal  proceedings  at  least  a  semblance  of 
correctness. 

The  Lord  answers  the  old  priest's  questions  regarding  his 
doctrine ;  for  it  was  less  requisite  here  to  defend  the  honor  of 
his  person  than  that  of  his  cause,  which  was,  at  the  same  time, 
the  cause  of  God,  and  which  he,  therefore,  felt  called  upon  to 
vindicate.  He  also  wished  to  make  it  clearly  known  through- 
out all  ages,  that  he  was  condemned  and  crucified  solely  because 
of  his  asserting  his  Divine  Sonship.  "  I  spake,"  says  he,  "  openly 
to  the  world" — that  is,  "  I  opened  my  mouth  boldly."  Yes,  in 
all  that  he  spoke,  the  profound  assurance  and  powerful  convic- 
tion of  being  the  Lord  from  heaven,  who  revealed  that  which  he 
had  himself  seen  and  handled,  was  perceptible ;  not  like  the 
wise  men  after  the  flesh,  who  defend  their  propositions  with 
many  proofs  and  arguments  against  possible  objections ;  but  as 
knowing  that  he  that  was  of  the  truth  would  hear  his  voice,  and 
acknowledge  his  word  to  be  the  word  of  the  living  God.  Nor 
did  he  deceive  himself  with  reference  to  this.  To  this  day, 
when  any  one  is  delivered  from  the  snare  of  the  devil,  and 
attains  to  the  knowledge  of  his  necessities,  he  needs  no  other 
proof  of  the  truth  of  the  words  of  Jesus ;  since  his  heart  hears 
them  as  if  spoken  direct  from  heaven,  and  discovers  between  the 
language  of  Jesus  and  the  most  intellectual  discourses  of  mere 
mortals,  a  gulf  of  difference  so  immense,  that  it  is  incompre- 
hensible to  him  that  he  did  not  long  before  perceive  it. 

The  Lord  Jesus  continues:  "I  ever  taught  in  the  synagogue 
and  in  the  temple,  whither  the  Jews  always  resort."  He  had 
done  so,  and  no  one  had  ever  been  able  to  prove  that  he  had'  taught 
any  thing  which  was  not  in  strict  accordance  with  the  Old  Tes- 
tament Scriptures,  and  did  not  most  beautifully  harmonize  with 
the  nature  and  being  of  a  holy  God.  The  Masters  in  Israel 
were   compelled,   by  his   discourses,  mutely  to  lay  down  their 


CHBI8T    BEFOBB  ANNAS.  1G1 

arms.  WLy  then  does  Annas  inquire  respecting  his  doctrine? 
An  expositor  well  observes  here,  that  "  We  may  discern  in 
all  the  marks  of  a  true  teacher — confidence,  which  deliv- 
ers its  testimony  before  the  whole  world;  persevering  continu- 
ance in  that  testimony  at  all  times;  and  a  siding  with  existing 
divine  and  human  ordinances." 

"  In  secret  have  I  said  nothing,"  says  the  Lord  Jesus  further. 
No,  not  even  that  which  was  enigmatical,  obscure,  and  myste- 
rious, much  of  which  was  explained  only  in  the  course  of  cen- 
turies, while  other  things  remain,  to  this  hour,  partially  closed 
and  scaled  to  us,  and  await  their  elucidation.  He  knew  that 
these  things  would  «long  be  inexplicable  to  his  people ;  but  this 
ditl  not  hinder  him  from  uttering  them.  This  is  another  proof 
that  he  was  clearly  conscious  that  his  doctrine  was  divine,  and 
would  therefore  continue  to  the  end  of  time. 

"  Why  askest  thou  me  ?" — says  our  Lord  in  conclusion — 
a  Ask  them  which  heard  me  what  I  have  said  unto  them ;  be- 
hold, they  know  what  I  have  said."  How  could  the  Lord 
testify  more  strongly  to  the  purity  and  divinity  of  his  doctrine, 
than  by  calling  upon  his  judge  to  summon  before  him  all  those, 
either  friends  or  foes,  who  had  ever  heard  him  speak,  and  ask 
them  if  they  were  able  to  say  any  thing  against  him  which  might 
furnish  ground  for  accusation.  Nor  to  the  present  day  does  he 
show  any  witnesses,  but  appeals  as  before,  on  behalf  of  his  cause, 
to  all  who  hear  and  receive  his  word ;  and  these  unanimously, 
from  their  own  conviction,  confirm  it,  and  will  ever  do  so,  that  the 
doctrine  of  Jesus  is  of  God,  and  that  he  has  not  spoken  of  himself. 

While  the  Lord  is  speaking,  one  of  the  servants  of  the  high 
priest  rises  up  and  smites  him  on  the  face,  while  saying, 
"Answerest  thou  the  high  priest  so?"  From  this  circum- 
stance, we  may  perceive  what  is  intended  with  respect  to  Jesus. 
This  first  maltreatment  gave  the  signal  for  all  that  followed. 
It  did  not  escape  the  servant  how  completely  his  master  was 
embarrassed  by  the  simple  reply  of  the  accused ;  and  this  rude 
blow  was  the  only  and  final  means  which  presented  itself  of 
rescuing  him  from  his  painful  and  disgraceful  dilemma.  The 
fellow  well  knew  that  it  would  be  allowed  him — nay,  that  he 
would  only  rise  by  it  in  the  favor  of  his  master ;  and  thus  the 


162  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

feeling  of  the  family  reflected  itself,  as  is  often  the  case,  in  the 
soul  of  the  menial  who  wore  its  livery. 

It  was  horrible  to  act  thus  toward  the  Lord  from  heaven. 
For  this  very  crime  alone,  which  must  not  be  placed  to  the 
account  of  a  single  individual,  but  to  our  corrupt  human  nature, 
to  the  guilty  race  of  Adam,  it  was  fit  that  hell  should  open  its 
mouth  and  swallow  it  up,  as  the  pit  formerly  did  Korah  and  his 
company.  But  Jesus  came  not  to  hasten  our  perdition,  but  to 
prevent  it.  We  therefore  do  not  behold  the  wicked  man 
scathed  by  lightning  from  heaven,  nor  his  hand  withered,  like 
that  of  Jeroboam,  on  his  stretching  it  out  to  smite  ;  nor  that  the 
deeply  insulted  Jesus  threatens  or  reviles,  but  resignedly  en- 
dures the  injury,  winch  his  holy  soul  must  have  felt  more 
painfully  than  his  body,  while  gently  reproving  the  worthless 
man,  and  thus  again  fulfilling  that  which  had  long  before  been 
predicted  of  him,  "  Then  I  restored  what  I  took  not  away." 

"Answerest  thou  the  high  priest  so?"  As  if  the  Lord, 
who  knew  better  than  any  one  else  what  was  becoming  in  liis 
converse  with  mankind,  had  infringed  upon  reverence  due  to 
the  sacerdotal  dignity.  But  how  often  are  we  treated  in  a  simi- 
lar manner,  when  the  truth  which  we  proclaim  to  the  men  of 
the  world  can  no  longer  be  assailed.  We  are  then  called  bold, 
presumptuous,  obstinate,  etc.  And  woe  to  us  completely,  when 
we  presume  to  abide  firmly  by  our  belief  before  dignitaries  and 
superiors,  and  refuse  to  deviate  from  the  truth !  How  does 
hypocritical  zeal  for  the  preservation  of  the  honor  of  authority 
start  up  against  us,  and  how  pompously  it  calls  out  to  us, 
"Answerest  thou  the  high  priest  so?"  while  it  would  also 
gladly  smite  us  on  the  cheek.  But  what  is  left  for  us,  in  such 
situations,  except  to  make  use  of  our  Master's  own  words,  "  If 
I  have  spoken  evil,  bear  witness  of  the  evil ;  but  if  well,  why 
smitest  thou  me  ?" 

How  overpowering  was  this  speech  to  both  master  and  serv- 
ant !  It  was  like  the  stroke  of  a  hammer,  driving  the  sting  of 
their  evil  conscience  still  deeper  into  the  marrow.  The  blow  on 
the  cheek,  with  its  accompanying  brutal  language,  was  only  a 
clear  proof  that  the  miserable  men  felt  themselves  unable  to 
bring  any  thing  of   a  culpable    nature  against    the  Lord.    By 


THE  JUDICIAL   PROCEDURE.  1G3 

acting  thus,  they  only  smote  themselves  in  the  face,  since  by 
their  conduct  they  made  it  evident  how  deeply  and  painfully  they 
had  felt  the  truth. 

Thus  our  Lord  and  Master  came  forth  perfectly  justified  from 

this  first    examination,    and   the    high  priest  and   his    satellites 

were  covered  with  disgrace.     In  their  fate  we  see  reflected  that 

of  all  those  who"  dare  to  lift  the  shield  against  the  Lord's  cause, 

which,   through  the  power  of  inward  truth,  victoriously  repels 

attack.      Whatever    may    be     planned    and    undertaken 

against  it.  it  invariably  comes  forth  like  the  sun  shining  in  the 

of  the  valley,  and  calmly  looks  down  on  all  opposition  and 

ying  as  upon  vanquished  enemies. 


XIX. 
THE  JUDICIAL  PROCEDURE. 

Ciirist  at  the  bar  of  the  ecclesiastical  tribunal  is  the  subject  to 
which  our  meditations  are  now  to  be  directed.  The  apparent 
contradictions  in  the  life  of  Jesus  increase,  and  become  the  more 
striking,  the  nearer  it  approaches  its  close.  Think  of  the  Holy 
One  of  God  arraigned  as  a  criminal ;  the  Judge  of  the  world 
judged  by  sinners !  Where  was  .there  ever  a  more  outrageous 
contrast  exhibited !  And  that  which  thus  displays  itself  on  the 
stage  of  the  world's  history  is  not  the  most  astonishing  or  the 
strangest  part  of  that  which  here  occurs.  The  exterior  of  the 
event,  occupies,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  place  of  a  screen, 
interwoven  with  symbolical  figures,  behind  which  the  real 
judicial  act  is  accomplished,  which  is  typified  by  the  former,  and 
only  obvious  to  the  eye  of  faith — an  act  which,  in  a  higher  degree, 
concerns  us  all,  and  which  is  carried  on  before  an  infinitely  higher 
tribunal  than  that  of  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim. 

Night  still  reigns.  The  city  of  Jerusalem  lies  for  the  most 
part  in  profound  slumber,  and  has  no  presentiment  of  the  awful 
events  wliich  are  occurring  within  its  walls.  Occasionally, 
isolated  footsteps  are  heard  along  the  streets,  in  the  direction  of 


164  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

the  high  priest's  palace,  the  windows  of  which,  now  glaring  at 
an  unwonted  hour  with  the  light  of  lamps  and  torches,  cause 
events  of  an  extraordinary  nature  to  be  inferred.  Let  us  also 
repair  thither.  An  assembly  of  high  rank,  collected  together  in 
the  spacious  hall  of  audience,  receives  us.  It  is  the  council  of 
the  seventy  rulers  of  Israel,  with  the  high  priest  as  its  president. 
A  venerable  assembly,  as  regards  its  appointment;  the  most 
illustrious  and  awe-inspiring  in  the  whole  world;  since,  sitting 
in  the  seat  of  Moses,  in  the  midst  of  the  chosen  people,  its  office 
is  to  administer  justice  according  to  the  book  of  the  law,  and 
in  the  name  of  the  Most  High  G-od.  Next  to  the  president  we 
perceive  the  men  who  had  previously  filled  the  office  of  high 
priest.  Behind  these,  we  observe  the  representatives  of  the 
four  and  twenty  classes  of  the  priesthood.  Then  follow  the 
elders  or  rulers  of  the  synagogues,  while  the  rest  of  the  assembly 
is  composed  of  the  most  eminent  doctors  of  the  law,  men  well 
versed  in  the  Mosaic  statutes  and  the  traditions  and  ordinances 
of  the  Rabbis. 

It  was  the  primary  duty  of  these  men,  as  keepers  of  the 
sanctuary,  to  maintain  the  observance  of  the  ordinances  of 
Jehovah  among  the  people;  to  settle  the  legal  differences  of 
the  various  tribes ;  to  watch  over  the  purity  of  doctrine  and  of 
divine  service;  and  to  examine  and  judge  any  heresies  that 
might  spring  up.  It  certainly  belonged  to  the  privileges  and 
even  duties  of  the  authority  thus  constituted,  to  bring  before 
them  a  man  who  gave  himself  out  for  the  Messiah;  and  to 
examine  him  in  the  strictest  manner.  And  that  it  did  not 
occur  to  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  to  dispute  their  right  to  this,  is 
clearly  manifest  from  the  reverence,  ^vhich,  apart  from  the 
moral  qualities  of  its  individual  members,  did  not  fail  to  show 
itself  in  his  deportment  during  the  whole  course  of  the  pro- 
ceedings. In  the  Sanhedrim  he  sees  the  tribunal  of  the  Divine 
Judge — but  in  a  superior  manner;  that  is,  while  hearing  the 
voice  of  God  through  its  medium,  even  when  the  counselors,  as 
respects  their  own  persons,  speak  from  the  suggestions  of  Satan  ; 
and  while  regarding  the  unrighteous  judgments  of  the  latter  as 
changed,  with  reference  to  himself,  into  well-founded  and  just 
decifions  of  the  court  of  judicature  above. 


THE   JUDICIAL   PROCEDURE.  1G5 

Before  this  supreme  tribunal  the  Saviour  of  mankind  stands 
bound;  for  we  must  not  limit  the  great  judicial  procedure  to 
that  which  is  visible,  but  must  seek  it  especially  in  the  invisible 
world.  The  Lord  does  not  stand  at  the  bar  as  a  Holy  One,  but 
as  the  representative  of  sinners.  Our  catalogue  of  crimes  is 
displayed  before  him,  as  if  they  were  his  own.     Our  sins  are 

vd  upon  him,  for  he  bears  them.  He  is  laid  in  the  scales 
of  justice  with  our  transgressions,  for  they  are  imputed  to  him. 
What  may  then  have  passed  between  him  and  the  Majesty  upon 

hrone,  is  concealed  from  us  by  the  vail  of  eternity.  One 
thing,  however,  we  know,  that  he  stood  there  in  our  place. 
Sad  he  not  appeared,  that  position  would  have  been  ours;    and 

unto  us,  had  we  been  made  responsible  for  our  sins!  Such 
a  thought  need  no  longer  terrify  us,  if  we  belong  to  Christ's 
flock.  What  was  due  from  us,  he  has  paid.  We  come  no  more 
into  condemnation,  since  he  has  taken  our  place.  We  know  no 
longer  any  judge;  for  the  Judge  is  our  friend.  How  bliss- 
ful is  this  consciousness!  Eternal  praise  to  him  to  whom  we 
owe  it  all. 

But  we  return  to  the  hall  of  judgment.  The  council  seek  for 
witnesses  against  Jesus.  They  seek,  because  unsought,  nothing 
of  the  kind  presents  itself.  That  which  is  unsought  is  all  in  his 
favor.  But  they  have  already  decided  to  put  him  to  death. 
Why?  Because  he  spoils  the  game  of  the  proud  men,  who 
have  him  in  their  power,  and  every  where  comes  in  the  way  of 
their  selfish  practices.  Their  heads  are  less  at  variance  with 
him  than  their  hearts.  But  generally  this  is  not  the  case  with 
Ins  enemies.  They  dislike  him  because  he  disturbs  them  in 
their  sinful  haunts;  because  he  disapproves  of  the  ways  of 
vanity  in  which  they  walk,  judges  their  ungodly  and  carnal 
deeds,  and  pronounces  them  deficient  in  that  righteousness  which 
avails  before  God.  And  because,  for  these  reasons,  they  dislike 
hi  in,  they  seek  for  witnesses  against  him,  denying  above  all 
his  divinity;  for  if  he  were  God,  who  would  absolve 
them  from  the  duty  of  reverencing  him  and  believing  Ins  word, 
which  condemns  them  ?  And  what  kind  of  witnesses  do  they 
bring  against  him  ?  0  the  miserable  authorities  to  winch  they 
appeal,  who    not  only  contradict  one   another  incessantly,   but 


166  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

themselves  every  moment !  while  the  witnesses  which  we  bring 
forward  in  behalf  of  our  faith,  are  the  devout  seers  and 
prophets,  the  holy  evangelists  and  apostles,  the  thousands  of 
martyrs,  who,  in  his  strength,  have  sung  their  psalms  to  him  in 
the  midst  of  the  flames — yes,  we  appeal  to  the  entire  history  of 
his  Church,  as  well  as  to  the  daily  experience  of  all  believers, 
as  to  a  continuous  testimony  in  favor  of  him  who  is  the  object  of 
our  love,  and  of  the  truth  of  his  cause. 

The  council  of  the  Sanhedrim,  who  are  anxious  for  the 
people's  sake,  and  probably  also  for  the  sake  of  their  own 
consciences,  to  clothe  their  legal  murder,  with  at  least  an  ap- 
pearance of  justice,  take  great  pains  to  find  witnesses  against 
Jesus.  But  a  more  fruitless  undertaking  was  perhaps  never 
attempted.  They  long  to  meet,  in  the  garden  of  his  life,  with  a 
single  poisonous  plant,  from  which  they  may  weave  for  him  a 
fatal  wreath.  They  find,  indeed,  an  abundance  of  flowers  for  a 
crown  of  honor,  but  not  the  vestige  of  a  weed.  Desperation 
then  advises  an  extreme  course.  A  number  of  bribed  witnesses 
are  suborned — fellows  well  experienced  in  all  the  arts  of  render- 
ing another  suspected — who  strive  to  fasten  one  or  other  false 
accusation  on  the  Holy  One.  But  what  is  the  result?  They 
expose  themselves,  with  those  who  hired  them,  in  the  most  bare- 
faced manner,  and  serve  only  as  a  new  foil  to  the  innocence  of 
the  accused.  What  they  adduce,  condemns  itself  as  an  ab- 
surdity, and  not  even  that  is  attained  which  was  indispensably 
required  by  the  Mosaic  law,  that  their  testimony  should  corre- 
spond. They  become  more  and  more  confused,  refute  one 
another  against  their  will,  and  remind  us  of  the  word  of  the 
Lord  by  the  mouth  of  Zechariah,  "  I  will  smite  every  horse  with 
astonishment,  and  his  rider  with  madness." 

The  venerable  assembly  now  finds  itself  in  the  most  painful, 
dilemma.  At  length,  two  witnesses  come  forward,  and  hope,' 
by  means  of  an  expression  which  the  Lord  had  once  uttered  a 
year  before,  and  which  they  now  charge  him  with — naturally  in 
a  malicious  and  perverted  form,  to  make  amends  for  the  de- 
ficiences  in  their  accusation.  The  words  adduced  are  those  in 
John,  ii.  19,  "  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  raise 
it  up"     Even  at  the  time,  this  expression,  which  he  doubtless 


THE  JUDICIAL   PROCEDURE.  161 

divested  of  any  serious  misapprehension  by  pointing  to  .nimselr, 
Was  most  maliciously  misinterpreted  by  the  Jews  who  were  pres- 
ent. "Forty  and  six  years,"  said  they,  "was  this  temple  in 
building,  and  wilt  thou  rear  it  up  in  fhree  days?  But  he 
spake,"  says  the  Evangelist,  "of  the  temple  of  his  body." 
The  two  hirelings  were  aware  of  this.  It  seemed  to  them, 
however,  a  very  suitable  expression  to  make  use  of  for  casting 
upon  Jesus  the  appearance  not  only  of  an  ungodly  boaster,  but 
also  of  a  crime  against  the  Divine  Majesty,  by  blaspheming  the 
temple.  Thus  we  hear  them  say,  "  He  boasted  that  he  was  able 
to  destroy  the  temple  of  God,  and  to  build  it  again  in  three 
days."  But  they,  too,  fall  into  the  most  glaring  contradictions  on 
the  outset,  as  partly  appears  from  the  Gospel  narratives.  The 
one  maintaining  that  Jesus  had  said,  "I  will,"  the  other,  "I 
can ;"  the  one,  "  I  will  destroy  the  temple  of  God,  and  build  it 
in  three  days ;"  the  other,  "  This  temple  that  is  made  with 
nands,  I  will  destroy,  and  within  three  days  I  will  build  another 
without  hands." 

Suffice  it  to  say,  the  opposing  statements  of  the  two  complete 
the  scene  of  confusion ;  and  even  the  high  priest  is  not  yet  base 
and  inconsiderate  enough  to  pronounce  his  judicial  decision  upon 
such  miserable  and  suspicious  evidence.  His  conscience  was 
still  sufficiently  susceptible  to  make  him  sensibly  feel  the  pitiful- 
ness  and  worthlessness  of  these  last  testimonies ;  and  if  it  were 
not  the  voice  of  his  inward  monitor  which  raised  itself  against 
it,  yet  the  secret  apprehension  that  such  a  judicial  inquiry  might 
not  satisfy  the  people,  as  well  as  the  impressive,  sublime,  and 
commanding  tranquillity  which  the  accused  opposed  to  the 
wretched  fabrication  of  the  two  witnesses,  restrained  him  from 
it.  Thus  in  the  end,  the  whole  inquisitorial  proceeding  of  the 
judge,  although  so  well  versed  in  scraping  together  the  moral 
weaknesses  and  defects  of  offenders  against  the  law,  only  tended 
to  our  Lord's  glorification,  since  by  it  his  spotless  innocence  was 
placed  in  the  clearest  light.  Yes,  my  readers,  he  is  the  Lamb 
without  spot,  which  it  was  necessary  he  should  be,  in  order  to 
take  away  our  guilt. 

But  how  does  the  accused  conduct  himself  during  the  judicial 
procedure?      His  whole   conduct   is  extremely   significant  and 


168  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

remarkable.  With  a  judicial  mien,  which  only  partially  covers 
his  perplexity,  the  high  priest  says  to  him,  in  an  imperious  tone, 
"  Answerest  thou  nothing  to  what  these  witness  against  thee  ?" 
"But  Jesus,"  as  we  are  told  by  the  narrative,  "held  his  peace." 
How  eloquent  was  this  silence — more  overwhelming  for  the  chil- 
dren of  the  father  of  lies  than  the  severest  reproofs  would  have 
been  !  And  why  make  many  words  on  this  occasion  ?  since  his 
enemies,  though  against  their  will,  witnessed  so  powerfully  in 
his  favor  that  he  needed  no  further  justification.  He  was 
silent.  How  easy  would  it  have  been  for  him,  by  a  few  words, 
to  have  most  painfully  exposed  the  august  assembly!  But  he 
honors  in  it,  as  before,  the  powers  ordained  of  God,  of  whatever 
injustice  they  may  be  guilty ;  and,  viewing  the  matter  thus,  he 
deems  it  becoming  him  to  hold  his  peace.  He  does  so,  remarks 
an  expositor,  like  an  ill-treated  child,  who  is  silent  before  his  unjust 
father.  The  essential  meaning  of  his  silence,  however,  lies  still 
deeper.  It  is  not  merely  the  silence  of  a  good  conscience,  but 
rightly  understood,  the  reverse.  His  holding  his  peace  is  the  re- 
flection of  a  more  mysterious  silence  before  another  and  higher 
than  any  human  tribunal ;  and  regarded  from  this  point  of  view, 
it  may  be  considered  as  a  silence  of  confession  and  assent. 

When  a  criminal  makes  no  reply  to  the  accusations  brought 
against  him  before  a  human  tribunal,  it  is  regarded  as  an  admis- 
sion of  his  guilt.  Thus  we  must  also  regard  the  silence  of  Jesus, 
who,  having  taken  upon  him,  before  God,  the  sins  of  liis  people 
by  a  mysterious  imputation,  deems  himself  worthy  of  death  and 
the  curse.  By  mutely  listening  to  the  accusations  of  his  judges, 
without  attempting  to  exculpate  himself,  he  wishes  outwardly  to 
intimate  the  actual  offering  up  of  himself  as  a  culprit  in  our 
stead.  Thus  he  is  silent,  not  only  as  a  lamb,  but  also  as  the 
Lamb  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world.  His  silence 
enables  us  to  speak  in  judgment,  and  gives  us  power  and  liberty 
to  lift  up  our  heads  boldly  against  every  accusation,  while  trusting 
to  the  justification  wrought  out  for  us  by  the  Redeemer. 

May  the  Lord  instruct  us  all  when  to  speak  and  when  to  be 
silent ;  the  former,  by  enlightening  the  darkness  of  our  natural 
state ;  and  the  latter,  by  an  application  to  our  hearts  and  con- 
sciences, of  the  consolatory  mystery  of  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  for 


THE  FALL    OF   PETER.  169 

us!  There  is  only  one  way  of  escaping  the  horrors  of  future 
judgment,  and  that  is,  the  believing  apprehension  of  all  that  our 
Surety  has  accomplished  in  our  stead.  May  God  strengthen  our 
faith  for  this  purpose  more  and  more,  and  enable  each  of  us 
from  the  heart  to  exclaim,  in  the  words  of  the  apostle,  "  Thanks  be 
to  God  for  his  unspeakable  gift  1" 


XX. 

THE    FAIiL    OF    PETER. 

In  addition  to  all  his  other  sufferings,  our  blessed  Lord  had  also 
to  endure  that  of  being  denied  by  one  of  the  little  company  of 
his  confidential  disciples,  on  whose  fidelity  he  ought  to  have 
been  able  to  reckon  under  all  circumstances.  His  heart  was 
not  to  be  a  stranger  to  any  grief  or  pain,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  to  us  in  all  things  a  compassionate  High  Priest.  Bat  how 
would  the  Scriptures  have  been  fulfilled,  had  he  not  also  ex- 
perienced the  fate  of  his  living  prototypes — Joseph,  delivered  up 
by  his  brethren,  and  David  forsaken  in  the  season  of  his  calami- 
ties— or  how  verified  the  prophetic  language  of  the  Psalmist, 
"Lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far  from  me,  and  my  acquaint- 
ance into  darkness?"  At  the  same  time  it  was  to  be  made 
manifest,  for  our  consolation,  that  "  he  had  received  gifts  even 
for  the  rebellious;"  and  where  is  this  more  evident  than  in  the 
grievous  event  which  we  are  about  to  contemplate  ? 

Let  us  join  ourselves  in  spirit  to  Simon  Peter.  If  any  one 
was  ever  ardently  attached  to  the  Saviour,  it  was  he;  but  he 
was  only  partially  conscious  of  what  it  was  that  he  loved  in 
Josus.  The  mystery  in  his  vicarious  character,  and  the  conse- 
quent necessity  for  the  offering  up  of  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for 
the  sins  of  the  world,  was  still  concealed  from  him.  He  had 
only  a  kind  of  general  perception  that  his  salvation  in  some 
way  depended  upon  fellowship  with  Jesus,  and  that  without, 
him  he  would  infallibly  perish.     In  Peter,  as  in  many  churches 

8 


170  THE   HOLY    PLACE. 

where  the  Gospel  is  not  preached  in  all  its  fullness,  faith  and 
love  preceded  religious  knowledge  and  discernment.  More  the 
subject  of  feeling  than  of  a  divinely  enlightened  understanding, 
which  regulates  the  whole  life,  Peter  reminds  us  of  that  class 
of  our  brethren,  of  whom  we  are  wont  to  say  that  though  they 
possess  the  burning  heart,  yet  they  are  still  in  want  of  the  light 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  new  life  is  implanted  in  its  germ,  and 
the  ability  to  develop  itself  to  the  aim  of  its  heavenly  calling 
exists:  but  the  development  itself  is  still  far  behind,  and  much 
remains  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  enlarge  and  complete. 

The  cause  of  Peter's  ignorance  of  the  chief  intention  of 
Christ's  coming  into  the  world,  was  his  deficiency  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  himself.  He  knew,  indeed,  that  as  a  poor  sinner,  he 
stood  in  need  of  mercy:  but  he  had  no  idea  of  the  boundless 
extent  of  man's  moral  depravity  and  inability.  Over  this  a 
vail  was  thrown  by  the  sparkling  and  deceptive  brilliancy  of  his 
sentimental  state.  He  felt  himself  animated  by  such  an  ardent 
love  and  enthusiasm  for  Jesus,  that  the  smallest  suspicion,  in 
this  respect,  wounded  him  deeply.  Alas!  he  did  not  yet  know 
how  much  the  noblest  human  feelings  depend  upon  the  change 
of  circumstances,  situations,  and  seasons.  The  declaration  of 
Jeremiah,  that  "  the  heart  of  man  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked,"  was  not  obvious  to  his  understanding. 
He  was  ignorant  that  one  who  could  be  enthusiastic  for  Jesus 
transfigured  on  Mount  Tabor,  possessed  no  pledge,  from  this 
feeling,  that  he  would  be  equally  zealous  for  Jesus  ignomini- 
ously  crucified  on  Mount  Calvary.  Just  as  little  did  he  imagine 
that  what  pervaded  his  mind  under  the  sound  of  his  Master's 
affectionate  parting  address,  in  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  mid- 
night hour,  by  no  means  necessarily  enabled  him  still  to  cleave 
to  him  when  arrested  and  disgracefully  dragged  before  a  judicial 
tribunal. 

We  read  of  Gideon,  that  the  Lord  said  to  him,  "Go  in 
this  thy  might;"  and  to  this  day,  it  is  only  the  Lord's  gracious 
inspiration  which  produces  true  heroism.  But  of  this  Peter  was 
ignorant.  Instead  of  despairing  of  all  his  own  courage  and 
leaning  solely  on  the  strength  of  the  Lord,  he  trusted  to  his  own 
valor;  which  he  lamentably  over-estimated;   and  instead  of  ap- 


THE   FALL    OP   PETER.  171 

plying  for  spiritual  weapons  to  him  who  said,  "Without  me,  ye 
can  do  nothing :"  the  simple  disciple,  in  the  armor  of  his  own 
feeling  of  affection  for  his  Master,  thought  himself  sufficiently 
able  to  cope  with  Satan  and  his  crafty  devices. 

Peter  was  like  the  man  in  the  Gospel,  who  went  to  war  with- 
out first  sitting  down  and  counting  the  cost.  He  might  have 
already  perceived  that  he  was  acting  foolishly,  when  after  his 
rash  assault  on  the  servant  of  the  high  priest  and  the  Lord's 
subsequent  resignation  of  himself  to  the  hands  of  his  enemies, 
his  zeal  was  instantly  extinguished,  so  that  he  was  cowardly 
enough  to  take  to  a  disgraceful  flight  with  the  rest.  True,  he 
again  bethought  himself  after  a  time;  but  that  which  induced 
him  to  follow  his  captive  Lord  at  a  distance,  was,  in  reality, 
more  the  spur  of  a  despicable  pride,  than  the  noble  impulse  of 
a  "love  strong  as  death."  He  had  spoken  so  openly  and  loudly 
of  never  denying  his  Master,  and  even  of  going  to  death  with 
him;  and  what  would  be  thought  of  him  if  he  were  now  to 
break  his  vows  and  vanish  from  the  field  ?  No,  he  was  resolved 
never  to  be  regarded  as  a  coward.  Where  his  Master  is,  there 
he  must  be.  Like  a  vessel  steering  against  the  wind,  he  follows 
in  due  distance  the  march  of  the  armed  band.  He  goes  forward 
with  feeble  knees  and  inward  reluctance.  What  would  he  give 
if  some  unavoidable  and  obvious  hinderance  were  to  block  up 
his  way  and  prevent  his  further  advance !  In  fact,  such  a 
wished-for  obstacle  seems  to  present  itself,  in  the  gates  being 
closed  as  soon  as  the  band,  with  their  captive,  have  entered 
into  the  court-yard  of  the  high  priest's  palace.  Peter  would  now 
have  felt  himself  excused,  had  he  gone  away,  since  however 
willing  he  might  be,  he  could  proceed  no  further.  If  we  mis- 
take not,  he  is  already  preparing  to  depart ;  but  just  as  if  every 
thing  conspired  to  promote  his  fall,  it  happened  accidentally,  as 
people  say,  that  before  the  entrance,  he  meets  with  a  friend  and 
fellow-believer,  who  was  known  to  the  high  priest;  and  who, 
being  on  amicable  terms  with  him,  went  freely  in  and  out  of  his 
house.  The  latter  addresses  a  few  words  to  the  door-keeper, 
and  Peter,  whether  willingly  or  unwillingly,  is  admitted. 

We  are  not  informed  who  the  disciple  was  that  procured  his 
admission.      If,  as  many  suppose,  it  was  the   Evangelist  John 


172  THE   HOLT    PLACE. 

himself,  to  whom  we  owe  the  mention  of  this  unimportant  event, 
it  is  pleasing  and  truly  affecting  to  see  him  taking,  in  this  state- 
ment, part  of  the  blame  from  his  friend  Peter,  and  putting  it 
upon  himself.  But  whoever  he  may  have  been,  the  question 
still  urges  itself  upon  us,  why  God  in  his  providence  did  not  so 
order  it  that  Peter  should  arrive  only  a  few  minutes  earlier  at 
the  gate  of  the  court-yard;  since  that  eventful  meeting  would 
have  then  been  avoided,  and  the  whole  of  the  subsequent  mis- 
chief prevented  ?  The  answer  is  easy.  Although  it  remains  a 
truth  that  God  tempts  no  one,  much  less  causes  him  to  stumble 
and  fall:  yet  he  not  unfrequently  visits  with  severe  trials  those 
whom  he  loves,  and  even  does  not  prevent  their  falling,  when 
they  do  not  attend  to  his  word  and  disbelieve  his  warnings; 
thus  refusing  to  be  healed  of  their  presumptuous  reliance  on 
their  own  ability  in  any  other  way  than  by  bitter  experience. 
Even  Peter's  fall,  which,  as  regards  its  guilt,  must  be  placed 
solely  to  his  own  account,  and  is  fully  explained  by  the  self- 
dependence  of  the  disciple,  was  intended  by  God  as  a  medicine 
for  his  soul,  which  aimed  at  its  thorough  healing  of  its  foolish 
and  blind  self-confidence.  The  Lord  Jesus  had  already  clearly 
hinted  at  this,  and  also  at  the  salutary  results  of  his  lamentable 
fall,  when  he  addressed  to  Peter  the  encouraging  words,  "  When 
thou  art  converted,  strengthen  thy  brethren." 

Simon  passes  with  tottering  steps  over  the  threshold  of  the 
opened  gate,  and  thus  sets  foot  on  the  scene  of  his  trial.  0  that 
he  had  now  cast  himself  clown  in  prayer  before  God!  But  in- 
stead of  this,  he  still  depends  upon  himself,  and  upon  the  chance 
of  accidents  and  circumstances.  Satan  and  the  world  already 
stand  armed  against  him  on  the  field.  He  had  no  need  1 
them,  if  he  had  only  put  on  the  breastplate  of  faith.  W< 
now  do  nothing  but  tremble  for  the  poor  man,  and  should  be 
compelled  to  give  him  up  for  lost,  were  we  not  aware  of  ilic 
admirable  protection  afforded  him,  but  of  which  he  is  uncon- 
scious. The  solemnity  with  which  the  Lord,  on  the  way  to 
Gethsemane,  foretold  what  awaited  him,  hangs  in  his  memory, 
though  silent  for  a  while — like  a  bell  which,  at  the  proper  time, 
will  give  the  signal  for  his  restoration.  The  cock,  the  divinely 
appointed  alarmist,  already  stands  at  his  post,  and  Ins  crowing 


THE   FALL    OF    PETER.  173 

will  not  foil  of  its  due  effect.  The  Saviour's  intercession,  that 
s  faith  might  not  fail,  hovers,  like  a  protecting  shield, 
Over  his  head;  and  he  who  never  quenches  the  smoking  flax, 
nor  breaks  the  bruised  reed,  continues  near  the  endangered 
disciple,  and  in  the  hour  of  distress  will  afford  him  seasonable  aid. 

Let  us  now  consider  the  melancholy  event  which  took  place 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  high  priest.  At  the  moment  when 
Simon  is  admitted,  at  £he  intercession  of  his  friend,  the  damsel 
that  kept  the  door,  holding  up  her  lantern  to  his  face,  regarded 
him  with  a  look  as  if  she  knew  him,  but  is  not  quite  sure  of  it. 
Peter,  seeing  this,  turns  away  his  face,  and  hastens  as  quickly 
as  possible  past  the  woman,  lest  she  should  recognize  him.  In 
the  center  of  the  court-yard  the  soldiers  had  kindled  a  fire,  to 
protect  themselves  against  the  raw,  cold,  morning  air,  and, 
crowding  round  it,  pass  the  time  in  talking  and  joking;  while 
inside  the  house  the  proceedings  against  Jesus  are  going  on. 

Peter,  who  feels  uncomfortable  enough  in  such  an  atmosphere, 
approaches  the  noisy  group,  and  with  a  careless  mien,  as  if  only 
anxious  to  warm  himself,  takes  his  place  among  them.  In 
fact,  his  denial  had  now  commenced,  for  his  intention  was  evi- 
dently to  appear  to  the  mercenaries  as  if  he  belonged  to  their 
party,  and  shared  their  sentiments  with  regard  to  the  Nazarene.- 
Not  a  little  pleased  at  having  thus  attained  a  twofold  object — 
the  safety  of  his  person,  and  the  being  able  to  say  that  he  had 
manifested  his  courage  in  thus  mingling  with  the  adversaries, 
and  fulfilling  his  promise  not  to  forsake  his  Master — the  pitiable 
hero  sits  there  and  expects  that  he  will  be  able  to  witness  the 
future  course  of  events  without  danger  to  himself.  On  a  sudden, 
a  painful  stop  is  put  to  these  calculations.  The  porteress,  who 
wished  to  assure  herself  whether  or  not  she  had  mistaken  the 
stranger  whom  she  had  admitted,  steals  thither  unobserved,  and 
mingling  among  the  soldiery,  discovers,  by  the  light  of  the 
flickering  flame,  the  lurking  guest;  and  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der in  his  face,  she  asks  him,  with  a  triumphant  and  malicious 
leer,  "  Wast  thou  not  also  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ?  Art  thou 
not  one  of  his  disciples  ?" 

Who  can  describe  Peter's  confusion  at  this  question  ?  At  the 
moment  when  he  thought  himself  so  safe,  to  be  so  suddenly 


174  THE   HOLT   TLACE. 

assailed !  However,  he  recollects  himself,  and  thinks,  "  What 
does  the  woman  mean  ?  What  right  has  she  to  put  such  a 
question?  It  is  too  much  to  be  obliged  to  answer  every  idle 
inquirer.  I  would  have  told  Caiaphas,  or  one  of  the  chief 
priests,  who  I  am,  but  who  is  this  busy-body,  that  I  should  give 
an  answer  to  her?"  Thinking  thus,  he  replies,  with  the  em- 
phasis of  one  whose  honor  is  assailed,  "  Woman,  I  know  hiin 
not.     I  know  not  what  thou  sayest."     .„ 

Alas !  Alas !  He  that  offered  to  take  up  the  gauntlet  for 
Jesus,  even  if  thrown  down  by  the  king  of  terrors,  succumbs  at 
the  first  idea  of  danger,  suggested  by  the  question  of  a  menial 
servant !  Who  does  not  perceive  from  his  language  the  tempest 
of  accusing  and  excusing  thoughts  which  rages  within  ?  "  I 
am  not;  I  know  him  not,"  is  first  uttered  with  tolerable  decision. 
But  then,  condemned  by  conscience,  he  seeks  to  bear  out  tins 
denial  in  some  measure,  while  passing  by  the  necessity  of  a 
direct  answer,  by  adopting  another  mode  of  speech,  and  adding, 
"  I  know  not  what  thou  sayest.  What  dost  thou  mean  ?  I  do 
not  understand  thee."  But  this  no  longer  suffices  to  expunge 
the  unambiguous  words,  "  I  know  him  not." 

While  stammering  out  this  lamentable  prevarication,  he  rises 
from  his  seat,  under  the  influence  of  alarm  and  inward  rebuke, 
and  attempts  to  retire  unobserved  from  his  dangerous  position, 
in  which  he  succeeds  without  being  again  attacked.  He  bends 
his  steps  toward  the  gate,  in  the  hope  of  finding  it  open  and 
being  able  to  make  his  escape.  The  cock  now  crows  for  the 
first  time,  but  the  state  of  excitement  which  he  is  in,  does  not 
suffer  him,  this  time,  to  hear  the  warning  sound,  the  more  so, 
since  the  way  is  unexpectedly  blocked  up  by  another  maid- 
servant, who,  calling  to  the  soldiers  who  assemble  round  her, 
says,  in  a  more  dri mite  manner  than  the  former,  "  This  fellow 
was  also  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth  I"  The  mercenaries  are  grati- 
fied by  the  stripping  off  of  Peter's  disguise,  since  it  affords  them 
the  desired  materials  for  additional  joke  and  pastime.  "Art 
thou  not  also  one  of  his  disciples?"  they  ask,  in  a  rude  and 
threatening  tone — "Thou  belongest  also  to  the  sect!" 

What  is  the  poor  man  to  do  now  ?  After  his  foot  has  once 
slipped,  we    see    him  fall  into  a  state  of  complete  vacillation. 


THE   FALL    OF   PETER.  1*75 

The  way  to  the  second  transgression  is  always  rapidly  traversed 
after  the  commission  of  the  first.  Some  dark  spirit  then  whis- 
pers in  our  ear  that  the  repetition  can  not  make  us  more  culpable, 

God  is  wont  not  to  number  but  to  weigh  our  sins  ;  or 
that  by  persisting  in  the  commission  of  any  particular  sin,  we 
only  manifest  that  we  do  not  exactly  regard  it  as  sin,  and  have, 
therefore,  in  some  measure,  sinned  ignorantly.  Suffice  it  to 
say  that  Peter  now  denies  his  Lord  again,  and  this  time 
at  least,  according  to  the  sound  of  the  words,  more  boldly 
than  before,  "Man,"  says  he,  "I  am  not,"  and  then  adds 
an  asseveration ;  nay,  even  so  far  "forgets  himself  as  to  speak 
of  his  Master  in  a  contemptuous  tone  while  saying,  "  I 
know  not  the  man!"  They  must  now  be  forced  to  believe 
aim,  since  no  one  would  speak  thus  of  his  friend,  if  he  were 
lot  the  refuse  of  faithlessness  and  falsehood.  They  do  not 
Imagine  Peter  to  be  capable  of  such  baseness,  and  therefore 
they  let  him  go.  0  what  a  disgrace  for  the  disciple,  morally 
to  have  convinced  the  troop  that  he  could  not  be  Jesus's  friend, 
but  had  sworn  fealty  to  the  banner  of  his  adversaries. 

Restless  and  fugitive,  like  a  stricken  and  chased  deer,  the 
unhappy  disciple  wanders  about  the  remote  parts  of  the  court- 
yard, but  to  his  horror  finds  every  outlet  of  escape  closed  against 
him.  For  a  while  he  succeeds  in  withdrawing  himself  from  the 
view  and  further  molestation  both  of  the  spearmen  and  domes- 
tics ;  but  the  danger  of  his  situation  takes  such  possession  of  his 
thoughts  and  senses  that  we  must  give  up  the  hope  of  his  taking 
to  heart  the  extreme  point  to  which  the  wind  of  temptation  has 
carried  him.  He  staggers  about  like  one  who  is  no  longer 
n i;i<ter  of  himself,  when,  after  the  lapse  of  about  another  hour, 
a  fresh  crowd  surrounds  him,  who,  after  carefully  weighing  all 
the  circumstances,  have  at  length  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
er  must  certainly  belong  to  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  "  Surely," 
say  they,  with  greater  confidence  than  before,  "thou  art  also 
one  of  them ;"  and  when  he  again  begins  to  defend  himself,  they 
convict  him  of  falsehood  by  his  own  words,  and  exclaim,  "  Thy 
speech  bewrayeth  thee ;  thou  art  a  Galilean."  Another  soldier, 
ittracted  by  the  noise,  looks  him  full  in  the  face,  and  adds  his 
confirmation  to  their  assertion,  by  saying,  "  Of  a  truth  tins  fellow 


176  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

also  was  with  him."  Last  of  all,  a  servant  of  the  High  Priest 
approaches,  a  kinsman  of  him  whose  ear  Peter  had  cut  off  at  Geth- 
semane,  and  says,  "  Did  not  I  see  thee  in  the  garden  with  him?" 
Peter  now  finds  himself  completely  intrapped.  How  is  he  to 
act?  Two  ways  are  open  to  him,  either  to  reveal  his  disgrace- 
ful denials  by  a  candid  acknowledgment,  and  present  his  bare 
bosom  to  his  enemies  for  Jesus's  sake,  or  else  to  act  his  lament- 
able part  completely  through,  in  which  case  he  must  carry  his 
barefaced  falsehoods  to  the  utmost.  In  a  state  bordering  on  des- 
peration he  decides  upon  the  latter.  In  the  confusion  of  the 
moment,  I  know  not  what  he  may,  half  unconsciously,  have 
summoned  up  to  soothe  his  conscience,  at  least  for  a  time. 
Whether  he  took  refuge  in  the  subterfuge  that  such  degraded 
characters  were  not  worthy  of  having  the  name  of  Jesus  con- 
fessed before  them,  which  would  be  like  casting  pearls  before 
swine,  or  whether  he  sought  to  deceive  himself  with  the  idea 
that  he  would  spare  his  blood  until  the  desired  opportunity 
arrived  of  shedding  it  publicly  before  all  the  people  in  testimony 
of  his  faith,  who  shall  decide  ?  Suffice  it  to  say,  he  is  quite  the 
old  fisherman,  the  rough  sailor  again — nay,  even  much  worse 
than  he  had  ever  been  before,  and  heaps  oath  upon  oath,  and 
curse  upon  curse,  to  confirm  his  assertion  that  he  knew  not  the 
man.  While  calling  down  upon  his  head  all  that  is  dreadful, 
and  abjuring  his  salvation,  he  exclaims,  "I  am  no  Christian;  I 
know  not  the  man  of  whom  ye  speak."  And  he  gives  them  this 
assurance  with  a  gesture  and  in  a  tone  as  if  no  one  under  heaven 
was  more  despicable  in  his  esteem  than  "  that  man,"  and  as 
if  a  more  outrageous  injury  could  not  have  been  inflicted  upon 
him  than  by  such  a  supposition.  He  is  apparently  beside  him- 
self at  the  grievous  wrong  which  he  is  enduring.  But  the  more 
violently  he  protests  and  cries  out,  the  more  obvious  is  his  Gali- 
lean dialect ;  and  the  more  this  is  the  case,  the  more  certain  at 
length  are  the  mercenaries  that  they  have  not  been  mistaken  in 
him.  The  measure  of  his  sin  is  now  full.  The  soldiers  leave 
him  to  himself  without  giving  him  any  further  trouble,  and  turn 
their  backs  upon  him,  either  out  of  contempt,  as  deeming  such  a 
renegade  unworthy  of  being  stamped  as  a  martyr,  or  else  be- 
cause, by  the  opening  of  the  doors  of  the  judgment  hall,  a  new 
spectacle  attracts  their  attention  in  a  higher  degree. 


THE   FALL   OF   PETER.  177 

We  break  off,  for  the  present,  with  painful  feelings.  "Is  it, 
then,  possible  for  the  children  of  God  to  fall  so  far  back  into 
their  former  state  ?"  Yes,  my  readers,  if,  instead  of  commend- 
ing themselves,  in  true  humiliation  of  spirit,  to  the  grace  of  God, 
enter  the  lists  in  presumptuous  self-confidence,  and  rush  of 
themselves  into  danger.  In  this  case,  there  is  no  security 
against  their  experiencing  similar  defeats.  The  new  man,  in 
those  who  are  regenerate,  does  not  attain  to  such  an  unlimited 
superiority  over  the  old,  as  no  longer  to  require,  on  all  occa- 
sions, the  co  itinuance  of  divine  influence  for  the  overcoming  and 
aining  of  the  latter.  It  is  true  that  the  former  will  never 
yield  the  field  to  the  flesh  for  long  together,  but  in  due  time  will 
again  trample  it  under  foot.  It  may,  however,  be  the  case,  as 
it  was  with  Peter,  that  the  old  Adam,  under  the  pressure  of 
seductive  and  darkening  influences,  may  again  burst  his  fetters, 
and,  manifesting  his  depravity  before  God  and  man,  may  obtain 
a  considerable  advantage  over  the  new  man.  Hence  the  Lord's 
pointed  admonition  to  his  disciples  to  watch  and  pray  lest  they 
fill  into  temptation.  Simon  Peter  vowed  and  promised,  cer- 
tainly with  the  purest  intentions,  but  neglected  to  watch  and 
pray.  What  was  the  consequence  ?  The  first  blast  of  tempta- 
tion miserably  overthrew  him,  and  all  his  vows  and  promises 
were  scattered  to  the  winds. 

<(  Let  him,  therefore,  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest 
he  fall."  In  the  kingdom  of  God,  indeed,  a  defeat  may  bring 
more  blessings  than  a  victory;  and  more  costly  fruits  often 
spring  from  stumblings  than  from  the  most  apparently  success- 
ful strivings  after  holiness.  But  woe  unto  him  whom  this  truth 
would  render  reckless !  Such  a  one  would  be  in  danger  of  being 
never  raised  up  from  his  fall  by  the  hand  of  divine  grace.  And 
though  he  might  rise  again,  yet  no  one  can  calculate  how  far  a 
*  into  sin  might  affect,  at  least  the  present  life,  by  its  de- 
structive consequences.  Therefore,  let  us  ever  bear  in  mind  the 
apostolic  exhortation,  "  Put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that 
ye  may  be  able  to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the  devil ;"  as  well 
as  those  other  words  of  the  same  apostle,  "  Endure  hardness,  as 
good  soldiers  of  Tesus  Christ." 

8* 


XXI. 

THE  GREAT  CONFESSION. 

We  return  to  the  judgment  hall  of  the  Sanhedrim  at  a  moment 
when  profound  and  gloomy  silence  reigns.  But  even  this  pause 
has  its  import  The  Spirit  of  Truth  does  his  office  in  the 
assembly.  Shame  and  embarrassment  take  possession  of  every 
mind.  The  false  witnesses  have  acted  their  part  most  wretchedly, 
and  stand  unmasked.  Their  contradictory  evidence  only  tends 
to  their  own  disgrace.  The  sublime  bearing  of  the  accused,  ex- 
pressive only  of  innocence,  completely  paralyzes  his  adversaries. 
Every  eye  is  now  fixed  on  the  presiding  head  of  the  Church. 
Every  look  seems  to  ask  with  amazement,  "  What  art  thou 
about,  thou  Priest  of  the  Most  High  ?  Where  is  thy  wisdom ; 
what  is  become  of  thy  dignity  ?"  He,  meanwhile,  finds  himself 
in  the  most  painful  situation  in  the  world.  Anxiety,  both  for 
the  preservation  of  his  official  dignity,  and  for  the  result  of  the 
whole  affair,  torments  his  soul.  There  the  proud  liierarch  sits, 
and  his  thoughts  take  tumultuous  counsel  how  the  difficulty 
may  be  overcome,  and  how  he  may  escape  from  the  pressure. 
Such  is  the  end  of  the  judicial  procedure  against  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel.  I  ask,  who  has  lost  the  cause? — Jesus  or  his  judges  ? 
Be  assured  that  the  world's  great  process  against  Christ  will 
eventually  end  in  a  similar  manner.  It  will  terminate  in  the 
utter  confusion  and  despair  of  all  who  oppose  him.  Therefore 
let  not  his  adversaries  imagine  that  they  have  brought  the  case 
against  him  to  a  close. 

The  perplexity  of  the  high  priest  is  great.  How  can  he 
Conceal  his  embarrassment?  He  must  give  the  affair  another 
turn.  But  of  what  kind  ?  His  ideas  whirl  round  like  a  fiery 
wheel.  All  at  once  a  thought  occurs  to  him,  which  he  deems 
fortunate.  But  it  is  not  by  mere  acGident  that  it  presents 
itself  to  him.  A  greater  than  he  overrules  and  controls  the 
sceB.e.     The  hierarch  convulsively  snatches  up  his  falling  dignity 


THH   GREAT   CONFESSION.  179 

from  the  dust,  and,  with  visible  effort,  while  enveloping  himself 
in  the  gravity  of  his  office,  he  solemnly  steps  forward  a  few 
paces,  and  makes  known  his  intention  to  cite  the  accused  before 
the  throne  of  the  Almighty,  and  to  call  upon  him  to  testify  on 
oath,  and  under  invocation  of  the  name  of  the  Most  High  God, 
who  he  is ;  whether  he  is  really  the  person  whom  he  is  regarded 
as  being  and  lets  himself  be  taken  for  by  his  followers,  or 
whether  he  is  a  false  prophet  and  a  deceiver  ?  We  rejoice  at 
this  measure,  though  evidently  more  the  result  of  desperation 
than  of  calm  consideration.  The  affair  will  now  be  decided. 
Think  of  a  testimony  on  oath  by  Jesus  respecting  himself!  There 
was  nothing  else  wanting  to  satisfy  our  utmost  wishes. 

Now,  give  heed.  The  greatest  and  most  solemn  moment  of 
the  whole  process  has  arrived.  The  high  priest,  re-assuming  all 
his  dignity,  opens  his  mouth  to  utter  the  sublimest  of  all  ques- 
tions. "  I  adjure  thee,"  says  he,  *  by  the  living  God,  that  thou 
tell  us  whether  thou  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed."  He 
makes  use  of  the  legal  form  of  adjuration  which  was  customary 
in  Israel.  It  was  in  this  form  that  the  oath  was  administered 
and  taken.  The  person  sworn  answered  without  repeating  the 
form  itself,  with  a  single  "Yes"  or  "No  ;"  being  conscious  at  the 
same  time,  that  the  answer  he  gave,  if  it  deviated  from  the 
truth,  would  be  punished  by  the  High  and  Lofty  One,  who  had 
been  invoked  as  a  witness,  with  his  righteous  displeasure  and 
the  loss  of  eternal  salvation.  The  high  priest  thus  solemnly 
calls  upon  Jesus,  as  it  were,  for  his  credentials,  while  making  the 
basis  of  the  entire  Christian  religion  as  the  object  of  his  inquiry, 
and  in  so  doing,  he  is  perfectly  justified  by  his  official  position. 

What  is  it,  therefore,  to  which  Jesus  is  to  swear?  Let  us 
above  all  things  be  clear  upon  this  point.  He  is,  in  the  first 
place,  to  testify  whether  he  is  the  Christ — that  is,  the  Messiah. 
Caiaphas,  the  steward  of  the  divine  mysteries,  indicates  by  that 
name,  the  object  of  prophecy,  and  comprehends  in  it  all  the 
promises  and  types  of  the  Old  Testament,  out  of  which,  as  from 
mysterious  coverings  and  swaddling-clothes,  a  sublime  form  as- 
cends, who,  as  Prophet,  is  to  bring  down  the  light  of  eternity  to 
the  earth ;  as  High  Priest,  to  give  his  own  life  as  an  atonement 
for  the  sins  of  the  world ;  and  as  King,  to  establish  an  everlast- 


180  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

ing  kingdom  of  grace  and  peace.  This  dignified  Being  is  called 
the  "Lord's  Anointed,"  or  "Christ."  But  Caiaphas  knows  that 
this  "Christ"  will  be  a  man,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  "the 
Lord  Most  High  :"  such  as  David  and  Daniel  saw  in  vision  ;  and 
Micah,  as  one  "  whose  goings  forth  have  been  of  old,  from  ever- 
lasting." He  knows  that  the  Messiah  will  be  the  Son  of  God, 
in  a  manner  such  as  no  one  else  in  heaven  or  on  earth  is  entitled 
to  be  called.  He  will  not  only  be  like  Jehovah,  but  Jehovah  s 
equal,  and  thus  really  God.  From  this  sublime  point  of  view, 
Caiaphas  asks,  "Art  thou  he?"  and  believes  that  in  the  event 
of  Jesus  affirming  it,  he  would  be  perfectly  justified  in  pro- 
nouncing him  a  blasphemer,  and  as  such,  in  condemning  him  to 
death. 

What  greater  or  more  momentous  question  was  ever  put 
than  this?  What  would  have  been  the  consequences,  had  an 
answer  in  the  negative  ensued  ?  What  mercy  would  then  have 
been  the  portion  of  the  sinful  race  of  man  ?  Jesus  might  then 
have  been  whatever  he  pleased — the  wisest  philosopher,  the 
chief  of  the  prophets,  the  most  perfect  model  of  virtue — nay,  an 
angel  and  seraph  of  the  first  rank — all  would  not  have  availed 
us,  and  hell  would  have  been  the  'termination  of  our  pilgrimage. 
If  a  negative  had  followed  upon  the  high  priest's  question,  it 
would  have  extinguished  all  our  hopes;  it  would  have  fallen 
like  a  lighted  torch  into  the  citadel  of  our  consolation ;  the 
whole  edifice  of  our  salvation  would  have  been  overthrown,  and 
we  should  have  been  hurled  into  the  open  jaws  of  despair.  For 
think  of  what  is  included  in  this  one  question.  "Art  thou 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed?"  In  it  Caiaphas  inquires  if  the 
hour  of  our  redemption  has  arrived ;  if  there  is  a  possibility  of  a 
sinner  being  saved ;  if  an  atoning  power  can  be  ascribed  to  the 
obedience  of  Jesus;  and  if  the  Suretyship  of  Christ  can  in 
reality  be  of  any  avail  to  transgressors?  All  these  questions 
and  many  more  are  answered  in  the  negative,  if  a  simple  nega- 
tion had  issued  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  to  the  interrogatory,  "  Art 
thou  the  Son  of  God  ?"  But  if  it  be  answered  in  the  affirmative 
then  they  are  affirmed  to  all  eternity.  And  who  is  there  that  is 
not  anxious  for  the  reply  ?  Well,  then,  give  me  your  attention, 
and  open  your  hearts  to  the  truth. 


THE   GREAT   CONFESSION.  181 

The  all-important  question  is  propounded.  Deep  silence 
reigns  in  the  assembly.  Every  heart  beats  audibly,  and  every 
eye  is  fixed  on  the  accused.  Nor  do  our  hearts  remain  un- 
1.  We  also  stand,  trembling  with  expectation,  before  the 
high-priestly  tribunal.  We  are  aware  of  the  astonishing 
miracles  by  which  Jesus  has  magnified  himself.  We  were 
witnesses  how  he  displayed  his  superhuman  glory  at  the  bier  of 
the  young  man  of  Nain  and  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus.  We  have 
seen  him  in  the  endangered  vessel,  when  the  rage  of  the  ele- 
ments ceased  at  his  beck,  and  on  the  stormy  lake,  where  the 
wild  waves  became  firm  beneath  his  feet,  and  spread  a  crystal 
carpet  for  the  King  of  Nature.  But  all  these  might  have  been 
the  acts  of  a  prophet  sent  from  God,  and  the  marvelous  per- 
formances of  a  human  possessor  of  divine  power.  Such  a  person, 
however,  could  not  have  coped  with  our  misery.  We  heard  him 
say,  "  He  that  hath  seen  me,  hath  seen  the  Father  also,"  for  "  I 
and  the  Father  are  one,"  and  "  before  Abraham  was,  I  am;" 
with  other  expressions  of  a  similar  kind.  But  still,  with 
reference  to  these  expressions,  the  Tempter  might  suggest  to  us 
that  they  must  not  be  apprehended  literally,  but  are  only  to  be 
understood  of  the  moral  glory  of  Jesus.  And  thus  an  assertion 
was  still  requisite,  which  should  put  to  shame  all  the  arts  of 
infernal  perverters  of  language;  a  testimony  was  still  desirable 
concerning  the  person  of  Jesus,  the  undoubted  nature  of  which 
would  be  able  to  annihilate  all  the  objections  of  skepticism ;  and 
how  could  this  be  done  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner  than  by 
a  solemn  declaration  on  oath?  It  is  this  which  is  about  to 
take  place.  Jesus  is  asked  if  he  is  the  true  God  and  Eternal 
Life  ? — for  this  is  all  comprised  in  the  appellation,  "  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  Blessed,"  in  the  mouth  of  a  believing  Israelite.  He 
therefore  that  hath  ears,  let  him  hear  what  the  person  at  the  bar 
of  Caiaphas  testifies  of  himself,  before  the  face  of  the  Almighty, 
the  man  in  whose  mouth,  even  according  to  the  confession  of  his 
murderers,  was  found  no  guile. 

There  he  stands  in  the  presence  of  the  council  ot  the  nation, 
to  all  appearance  "  a  worm  and  no  man."  Greatness  and 
dignity  appear  to  rest  only  on  those  who  surround  him.  In 
himself  you  perceive  nothing  but  lowliness  and  poverty.     There 


182  TIIE   HOLY   PLACE. 

he  stands,  with  his  head  bowed  down,  his  counter  ance  pale,  his 
hands  bound,  and  surrounded  by  armed  men  like  a  robber.  He 
stands  there,  ready  to  sink  with  weariness  from  the  sufferings  he 
has  already  endured,  forsaken  of  his  friends,  inveighed  against 
by  his  enemies,  apparently  the  offscouring.  of  the  earth,  and  in- 
comparably wretched.  To  this  deeply  abased  and  sorely  stricken 
man,  the  question  is  solemnly  put  by  the  first  and  principal 
person  in  the  nation,  whether  he  will  swear  by  the  living  God 
that  he  is  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  ?  He  is  therefore  now  con- 
strained to  lay  aside  all  disguise;  and  for  our  sakes  he  gladly 
lifts  the  vail.  As  long  as  the  investigation  was  confined  to 
wretched  accusations  of  personal  reference,  Jesus  was  silent; 
but  after  the  affair  had  taken  such  a  different  and  much  more 
serious  turn,  it  was  requisite  to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth,  and 
declare  himself  definitely  with  regard  to  his  person.  He  knows 
that  his  answer  will  cause  Iris  death,  but  he  dares  no  longer 
refrain.  He  is  constrained  to  speak  by  the  reverence  which 
fills  his  heart  for  the  sacred  name  by  which  he  is  adjured.  He 
is  constrained  to  it  by  the  submission,  which  he  thinks  he  owes 
to  the  dignity  of  him  who  calls  upon  him  to  answer  on  oath. 
He  is  constrained  to  it  by  his  love  and  holy  zeal  for  the  truth, 
and  especially  by  his  tender  solicitude  for  us,  poor  sinners,  on 
whose  behalf  he  appears  at  the  bar  of  judgment.  It  is  not  the 
Sanhedrim  alone,  before  which  he  feels  himself  placed ;  he  sees, 
in  spirit,  his  whole  Church  assembled  around  him ;  he  sees  a 
whole  world  in  breathless  excitement,  and  all  the  kindreds  of 
the  earth,  grouped  around  him,  full  of  expectation.  The  ear  of 
his  whole  Church  to  the  end  of  time  hangs  upon  his  lips ;  and 
he  knows  that  the  moment  has  arrived  when  he  must  place  a 
firm  and  immutable  support  beneath  its  faith,  for  thousands  of 
years  to  come.  He  therefore  opens  his  mouth,  and  testifies  before 
the  throne  of  the  living  God,  with  clear  consciousness,  consider- 
ately, formally,  and  solemnly,  "  Thou  hast  said  it.     I  am." 

Here  you  have  the  great  confession.  What  an  affirmation  is 
this  !  It  lifts  us  up  above  all  doubt  and  apprehension.  It  places 
our  faith  on  an  everlasting  foundation.  It  establishes  and  seals 
our  entire  redemption,  and  is  the  grave  of  every  scruple.  But 
that  no  shadow  of  obscurity  might  rest  on  the  real  meaning  of 


THE   GREAT   CONFESSION".  183 

his  testimony,  ho  makes  an  addition  to  his  affirmation.  He  un- 
vails  the  future,  and  say?,  "Hereafter  shall  ye  see  the  Son  of 
^  I  an  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  the 
clouds  of  heaven."  This  is  in  part  already  accomplished.  It 
commenced  with  his  resurrection  and  ascension.  Its  fulfillment 
proceeded  with  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  the  found- 
ing of  his  Church ;  and .  it  is  hastening  toward  its  completion  in 
an  uninterrupted  series  of  victories,  while  it  will  experience  its 
consummation  amid  the  song  of  millions,  chanting,  "  The 
kingdoms  of  this  world  are  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  God- 
and  of  his  Christ  I" 

It  was  impossible  that  it  could  be  more  clearly  testified  who 
Jesus  was  than  was  now  done.  If  Ins  testimony  is  true,  it  is 
then  also  true  that  all  are  lost  who  will  not  believe  on  him,  and 
that  nothing  remains  for  those  who  refuse  to  bend  the  knee  to 
him,  but  "  a  fearful  looking-for  of  judgment  and  of  fiery  indig- 
nation, which  shall  devour  the  adversaries."  It  is  true  that 
"  whoever  is  not  born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit,  can  not  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  that  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son 
shall  not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him."  For 
this  likewise  is  testified  by  him,  who  answered,  "  I  am,"  before 
the  council ;  and  if  the  latter  is  true,  so  is  also  the  former. 
Hasten,  therefore,  to  commit  yourselves  to  the  hands  of  him, 
beside  whom  there  is  none  to  help  you,  either  in  heaven  or  on 
earth ;  nor  be  such  enemies  to  yourselves  as  to  choose  death  and 
the  curse,  now  that  life  and  immortality  are  brought  to  light, 
and  offered  to  you  freely  in  the  Gospel.  In  reliance  on  the 
sacred  oath  of  the  Saviour,  turn  your  backs  upon  the  world,  and 
cast  yourselves  into  the  arms  and  upon  the  heart  of  the  only 
Mediator. 

"I  am !" — answered  Jesus ;  and  if  he  had  not  been,  at  the 
same  time,  the  sacrificial  lamb  destined  to  disgrace  and  suffer- 
ing for  the  human  race,  millions  of  voices  would  have  sealed 
his  testimony  with  their  "Amen!"  The  seraphim  with  their 
golden  harps  would  have  hovered  over  him  and  have  exclaimed, 
"  Jesus,  thou  art  he !"  From  the  foundations  of  the  earth, 
which  were  laid  by  him,  would  have  resounded  the  same  testi- 
mony;  and  the  Eternal  Father,  with  that  voice  which  causes 


184  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

the  mountains  to  ti  enable,  would  have  called  down  from  heaven, 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  But 
silence  reigns  above,  below,  and  around  him.  The  priest  of 
God  is  in  the  sanctuary,  engaged  in  offering  up  his  sacrifice. 
There  all  is  silent.     His  enemies  only  are  permitted  to  rage. 

When  Caiaphas  hears  the  unequivocal  confession,  in  order  to 
manifest  his  hypocritical  indignation  at  this  supposed  piece  of 
impiety,  he  rends  his  clothes,  by  which  act  he  unconsciously 
intimates  symbolically  the  approaching  dissolution  of  the  typical 
'priesthood,  now  that  in  the  person  of  Christ,  the  true  priest  had 
appeared.  In  a  few  hours  the  temple  will  close ;  the  offering 
up  of  lambs  and  of  goats  will  have  reached  its  termination  in 
the  sight  of  God.  The  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  will  then 
retire  forever  from  the  Holy  of  holies,  made  with  hands,  in 
order  in  future  to  take  up  his  abode  in  those  who  are  of  a 
humble  and  contrite  heart. 

The  high  priest,  by  this  sign  of  grief,  gives  us  also  a  lesson 
which  is  worthy  of  our  attention.  It  becomes  us  spiritually  to 
do  the  same,  in  the  presence  of  Jesus,  as  he  did.  We  must 
appear  before  him  with  our  garments  rent,  otherwise  he  will 
not  regard  us.  We  must  tear  in  pieces  the  dress  of  our  own 
imaginary  righteousness,  virtue,  power,  and  wisdom.  We  must 
not  conceal  our  nakedness,  nor  seek  to  hide  our  shame.  We 
must  come  before  him  as  poor  sinners  and  poverty-stricken 
mendicants,  if  we  wish  to  recommend  ourselves  to  him.  All 
self-exaltation  is  an  abomination  in  his  sight.  Away,  then, 
with  all  our  tinsel !  He  will  adorn  us  with  his  own  robe.  He 
does  not  desire  artificial  flowers.  He  plucks  only  lilies,  which 
he  himself  has  clothed  with  purity  and  beauty. 

The  high  priest  rends  his  clothes  and  says,  "  What  further 
need  have  we  of  witnesses?"  The  man  is  in  the  right.  Had 
Jesus  unwarrantably  presumed  to  declare  himself  to  be  the  Son 
of  God  and  the  Judge  of  the  world,  he  could  not  have  been 
guilty  of  a  more  heinous  blasphemy  than  by  so  doing.  But 
why,  ye  judges  of  Israel,  must  that  necessarily  be  false  which  he 
nad  just  testified  of  himself?  Why  should  it  be  utterly  incon- 
ceivable that  he  was  the  promised  Lord  from  heaven  ?  Was 
there  any  thing  in  his  life  to  contradict  the  assertion  ?     In  spite 


THE   GREAT   CONEESSIOX.  185 

of  all  your  efforts,  what  did  you  find  that  was  disreputable  in  it  ? 
You.  can  accuse  him  of  nothing,  except  that,  in  the  declaration 
just  made,  he  had  unduly  exalted  himself — which  you  must 
first  prove — and  in  an  unauthorized  manner  had  appropriated 
Divine  honor  to  himself,  fou  were  compelled  to  confess  that 
he  came  forth  from  your  examination  pure  as  the  light  of 
heaven.  And  tell  me,  is  the  testimony  to  his  Sonship  which  he 
has  just  given,  wholly  isolated  and  unsupported?  On  the  con- 
trary, is  not  his  entire  manifestation  on  earth  a  confirmation  of 
it?  Was  it  not  established  by  voices  from  on  high?  Did  not 
numbers  of  unheard-of  signs  and  wonders  surround  it,  like  so 
many  proofs  of  its  truth  ?  And  has  it  not,  as  powerful  witnesses 
in  its  favor,  the  whole  choir  of  prophetic  announcements  which 
were  most  literally  fulfilled  in  him  ?  Such  are  the  questions  we 
might  put  to  you,  ye  judges  of  Jerusalem.  But  you  would  not 
that  this  man  should  reign  over  you ;  and,  therefore,  you  refused 
to  acknowledge  him  as  that  which  he  declared  himself  on  oath 
to  be.  Woe  unto  you,  ye  models  of  all  judicial  injustice ! 
What  will  become  of  you  when  the  day  draws  nigh  in  which 
you  will  be  brought  up  for  judgment,  and  when  every  thing  shall 
be  brought  to  light  that  was  hidden  in  obscurity  ! 

"What  think  ye?"  asks  the  high  priest.  The  whole  assem- 
bly, then,  as  with  one  voice,  taking  the  word  from  his  lips, 
exclaim  aloud,  "  He  is  guilty  of  death."  Just  so — as  standing 
in  our  room  and  stead,  it  is  really  the  case.  Other  and  more 
exalted  voices  than  those  of  the  council  mingle  in  the  verdict. 
But  what  kind  of  death  is  it  of  which  he  is  declared  to  be  guilty  ? 
Not  that  of  which  Balaam  spoke,  saying,  "  Let  me  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his !"  Not  that 
which  the  preacher  commends  in  the  words,  "  The  day  of  death 
is  better  than  the  day  of  one's  birth."  Nor  that  of  which  Paul 
writes,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?"  The  death  to  which 
Jesus  was  condemned,  he  endured  as  the  representative  of  our 
guilty  race.  By  his  death  he  took  from  ours  its  sting,  which  is 
sin.  All  fear  of  death  in  the  children  of  God  is  henceforth 
needless  and  groundless;  and  his  saying  remains  forever  true, 
that  "  Whosoever  believeth  on  him  shall  never  see  death." 

We  close  our  present  meditation.     You  see   the  alternative 


186  THE  HOLY  PLACE. 

which  is  placed  before  you — either  forever  to  break  with  Jesus, 
as  the  most  disreputable  enthusiast  the  world  ever  saw,  and 
approve  of  the  bloodthirsty  sentence  of  the  Sanhedrim,  or  to 
cry  "Hosanna"  to  the  lowly  Nazarene,  and  fall  in  humble 
adoration  at  his  feet,  as  God  maniiest  in  the  flesh.  There  is 
here  no  middle  path.  The  idea  of  his  being  merely  an  "  excel- 
lent man,"  only  manifests  great  levity;  and  regarded  in  the 
light,  conceals  within  it  the  traitor's  kiss.  How,  therefore,  do 
you  decide  ?  Even  sound  reason  advises  you  to  take  part  with 
us.  In  Jesus's  affirmation  on  oath  before  the  high  priest,  behold 
the  immutable  rock  which  bears  and  sustains  our  belief  in  him ! 
Build  the  house  of  your  hopes  for  eternity  thereon,  and  you  shall 
never  be  confounded;  for  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it! 


XXII. 

PETER'S    TEARS. 

Our  present  meditation  will  console  us  for  the  grief  we  expe- 
rienced when  considering  the  depth  of  Peter's  fall.  The  star  of 
divine  grace  rises  on  that  gloomy  scene  with  benignant  radiance. 
We  here  witness  the  shedding  of  tears,  which,  next  to  those  that 
flowed  from  our  Lord  himself  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  over  un- 
godly Jerusalem,  and  in  Gethsemane,  may  be  regarded  as  the 
most  remarkable  that  were  ever  shed  upon  earth.  They  have 
dropped,  like  soothing  balm,  into  many  a  wounded  heart.  May 
they  not  fail  to  produce  a  blessed  effect  on  many  of  my  readers, 
and  be  renewed  in  their  experience ! 

We  again  meet  with  Peter  at  the  horrible  moment  when 
completing  his  denial  of  Jesus,  he  formally  abjures  his  disciple- 
ship  with  heavy  curses.  Observe,  this  is  done  by  the  very 
individual  from  whose  lips  the  great  confession  had  previously 
proceeded — "  We  have  known  and  believed  that  thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God ;"  and  the  ardent  and  sincere 
declaration — "Though  all  men  should  forsake  thee,  yet  will  not 


PETER'S   TEARS.  187 

I."  But  what  are  even  the  best  of  men  when  left  for  a  moment 
to  themselves?  And  what  would  become  of  the  most  faithful  of 
Christ's  followers,  if  the  Lord  were  only  for  a  short  time  to 
remove  the  restraints  of  his  grace  ?  0  the  folly  of  trusting  to 
the  finest  feelings,  seeing  that  we  are  not  sure  of  them  for  a 
single  second!  What  childish  presumption  to  rely  for  success 
on  the  airy  weapons  of  what  men  call  good-will,  or  noble  reso- 
lutions I  We  might  indeed  do  so,  if  the  "weak  flesh"  did  not 
always  accompany  the  "willing  spirit,"  and  if  Satan  did  not 
always  go  about  as  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour. 

Peter  lias  first  to  learn,  in  the  school  of  experience,  like  us  all, 
that  we  presume  too  much  if  we  rely  upon  ourselves,  even  in  the 
most  trilling  temptation.  The  love  of  Christ  constrains  us  to 
venture  every  thing  for  him ;  but  it  is  only  the  belief  in  Christ's 
love  for  us,  and  the  trusting  to  his  gracious  power  and  strength, 
that  enables  us  to  overcome.  He  who  trembles  at  himself,  as 
being  capable  above  others  of  denying  his  Master,  will  gain 
greater  victories  than  he  who  deems  himself  sufficiently  strong 
to  be  able  to  say,  "  Though  all  men  forsake  thee,  yet  will  not  I." 
u  Thou  standest  by  faith,"  writes  Paul  to  the  Romans,  u  Be  not 
high-minded,  but  fear."  "  Therefore,"  says  the  same  apostle, 
"  I  will  rather  glory  in  my  infirmities,  that  the  power  of  Christ 
may  rest  upon  me." 

Peter  is  vanquished.  Hell  triumphs.  And  why  should  she  not? 
Had  ever  a  soul  become  hers  which  had  drawn  down  upon  itself 
the  curse  so  deservedly  as  that  of  this  apostate  disciple  ?  and 
did  the  cause  of  Christianity,  so  hated  by  her,  ever  receive  such 
a  painful  shock  as  in  this  instance,  where  one  of  its  apostles 
basely  succumbs  under  the  first  danger  which  menaces  a  candid 
confession  of  his  discipleship,  and  is  unable  to  find  language 
strong  enough  for  his  affirmation  that  "  he  knows  not  the  man  ?" 
Nevertheless,  hell  begins  to  cry  "  victory"  too  soon.  There  is  no 
such  hurry  with  regard  to  the  curse  which  is  to  light  upon  Peter. 
Listen  to  what  is  passing  in  the  judgment  hall  of  the  palace. 
The  appalling  sentence  has  just  been  uttered  in  the  midst  of  a 
tumultuous  uproar.  "  What  further  need  have  we  of  witnesses  ! 
He  has  blasphemed  God,  and  fe  guilty  of  death."  ''  Who  ?"  we 
ask,  astonished.     "Simon  Peter?"     No,  another — a  Holy  One; 


188  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

even  he  who  once  exclaimed,  "I  lay  down  my  life  for  the 
sheep."  He  is  now  ready  to  do  so,  and  Peter  belongs  also  to 
his  flock,  from  whom  the  curse  is  transferred  to  him,  the  Surety, 
and  with  respect  to  whom  the  words  are  henceforth  applicable, 
"  They  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out 
of  my  hand."  As  regards  the  shock  which  the  cause  of  the 
Gospel  endured  through  Peter's  denial,  it  will  survive  this  also. 
Yet  a  little  while,  and  there  is  One  who  will  be  able  to  give 
such  a  turn  to  the  whole  affair  that  it  must  ten^  rather  to  the 
advancement  than  the  injury  of  the  Gospel. 

Just  as  Peter  has  filled  up  the  measure  of  his  sin  by  a  formal 
repudiation  of  his  Master,  the  cock  crows.  What  is  the  result  ? 
A  return  to  sober-mindedness,  repentance,  and  tears.  God  only 
knows  with  what  clamor  Satan  deafened  the  disciple's  ears  so 
that  the  first  cry  of  the  feathered  watchman  did  not  penetrate 
into  them.  Peter  sank  only  still  more  deeply  into  the  snare, 
and  midnight  darkness,  enlightened  only  by  solitary  flashes  of 
his  accusing  conscience,  enveloped  his  mind. 

An  awakener  of  some  kind  or  other  is  appointed  to  every  one. 
Wherever  we  may  be,  there  are  voices  which  call  us  to  repent- 
ance. Nature,  as  well  as  our  whole  life,  is  full  of  them,  only 
our  ears  are  heavy  and  will  not  hear.  There  is  an  awakening 
call  in  the  rolling  thunder,  which  is  a  herald  of  infinite  majesty 
— in  the  lightning,  which  darts  down  before  thee,  carrying  with 
it  destruction — in  the  stars,  which  look  down  upon  thee  from  such 
remote  regions,  as  if  they  would  say,  "How  far,  0  man!  art 
thou  cast  out  from  thy  home  I" — in  the  flower  of  the  field,  which, 
in  its  transient  blooming  and  fading,  depicts  thy  own  brief  exist- 
ence upon  earth — in  the  midnight  hour,  when  the  church-bell 
strikes  upon  thy  ear,  like  the  pulse  of  time,  which  rapidly  hastes 
away,  and  calls  out  to  thee  to  hasten  to  save  thy  soul.  Nay, 
where  are  we  not  surrounded  by  awakening  voices  of  this  nature  ? 
They  sit  upon  the  tombstones  of  our  church-yards,  and  their  lan- 
guage is,  "  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die,  and  after  that 
the  judgment."  Their  warning  voice  resounds  from  every 
funeral  car  that  rolls  past  thee.  It  may  be  heard  on  every 
birthday  which  thou  celebratest ;  in  every  fit  of  illness  by  which 
thou  art  attacked;  in  every  danger  that  threatens  thy  life;  as 


PETER'S   TEARS.  189 

well  as  in  that  secret  uneasiness  which  incessantly  steals  through 
thy  soul. 

And  besides  these  general  calls  to  repentance,  do  we  not  find 
something  similar  in  every  family  circle  and  in  each  individual  ? 
Some  unrepented  sin  lies  upon  thy  soul.  When  will  this  awaken- 
ing call  fill  thy  eyes  with  tears  ?  One  misfortune  after  another 
has  lately  crossed  thy  threshold.  0  how  many  alarming  voices 
have  been  contained  in  these  strokes  of  the  Almighty's  rodl 
You  feel  your  strength  decaying,  and  that  the  sun  of  your  life  is 
declining.  Do  you  not  hear  in  this  fact  the  crowing  of  the 
cock  ?  On  every  side  we  may  be  conscious  of  it — in  visions  of 
the  night,  in  the  events  of  the  day,  in  serious  thoughts,  which 
we  are  unable  to  prevent,  in  sermons  and  admonitions  which 
are  addressed  to  us.  But  to  what  purpose  ?  Something  must  be 
added  to  this  warning  cry — something  superior  and  more  powerful 
than  itself,  or  it  will  never  succeed  in  awakening  us,  who  are  by 
nature  so  "  uncircumcised  in  heart  and  ears,"  from  our  deadly  sleep. 

The  cock  in  the  court-yard  of  the  high  priest  crows  a  second 
time,  and  this  call  enters  and  finds  a  response.  Day  begins  to 
dawn  upon  Peter,  awakened  by  the  remembrance  of  his  Master's 
warning,  and  while  reflecting  on  the  abyss  into  which  he  has 
plunged  himself.  But  if  he  shudders  with  horror,  hell  may 
share  his  terror,  since  the  second  crowing  of  the  cock  is  to  her 
what  the  trumpets  of  Joshua  were  of  old  to  the  walls  of  Jericho, 
casting  down,  on  a  sudden,  all  the  proud  trophies  of  victory  she 
had  already  erected. 

Let  us,  however,  return  for  a  few  moments,  to  see  what  oc- 
curred in  the  council  hall  just  before  this  second  warning. 
Something  of  importance  has  just  taken  place.  The  accused  has 
declared  upon  oath  that  he  is  the  Son  of  the  living  G-od.  The 
high  priest,  in  dissembled  indignation,  rends  his  clothes.  Amid 
wild  uproar  sentence  of  death  is  pronounced  upon  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel,  and  the  minions  of  justice  seize  him  to  lead  him  away 
into  the  court-yard,  and  there  vent  upon  him  their  unlicensed 
fury.  The  divine  sufferer  has  just  passed  through  the  doorway 
into  the  court-yard  when  the  crowing  of  the  cock  reaches  his  ear. 
"  And  the  Lord  turned  himself;"  we  know  toward  whom.  That 
sound  announced  to  him  his  disciple's  fall,  and  his  eye  and  his 


190  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

compassionate  heart  go  in  search  of  him.  Such  is  Jesus  the 
Saviour.  He  embraces  his  followers  with  more  than  maternal 
tenderness,  and  their  want  of  fidelity  does  not  prevent  his  being 
faithful.  What  waves  of  sorrow  beat  over  his  head,  and  yet  he 
can  forget  every  thing  in  his  anxiety  for  his  fallen  disciple !  Sooner 
than  one  of  them  should  be  forgotten,  he  would  forget  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world ;  and  would  suffer  the  nations  to  take  their 
course,  rather  than  lose  sight  of  one  of  his  little  ones.  As  long 
as  a  rose  of  his  planting  blooms  on  the  earth,  this  desert  is  to 
him  a  delightful  garden,  and  he  leaves  heaven  to  tend  and 
nourish  this  plant.  And  happy  are  ye  who  are  the  weak  of  the 
flock,  the  poor  and  needy  above  others!  It  would  seem  that 
you  lie  the  nearest  to  his  heart. 

Deeply  was  Peter  immersed  in  the  mire  of  sin,  yet  the  Lord 
turned  toward  him.  Who  among  us  would  have  troubled  him- 
self further  about  such  a  faithless  deserter  from  the  ranks  ?  If 
such  characters  were  referred  to  us,  it  would  go  ill  with  them. 
How  ready  we  are  to  stamp  and  reject  such  stumbling  brethren 
as  hypocrites !  Instead  of  moving  a  finger  to  restore  them,  we 
not  unfrequently  plunge  them  deeper  into  the  mire,  and  perse- 
cute them  worse  than  the  world  does.  If  Jerusalem  is  besieged, 
Judah  assists  in  the  blockade.  The  Lord,  on  the  contrary, 
whose  right-alone  it  is  to  judge  in  such  cases,  is  not  ashamed  to 
deign  to  act  the  part  of  the  woman  in  the  Gospel,  who  having 
lost  one  of  her  pieces  of  silver,  strikes  a  light,  seizes  the  broom, 
and  ceases  not  to  stir  up  the  dust  till  it  is  discovered  ;  and  when 
found,  she  calls  her  neighbors  together,  and  says,  "Rejoice  with 
me,  for  I  have  found  the  piece  of  silver  which  I  had  lost."'  His 
children  are  dearer  to  him  than  the  brethren  often  are  to  us. 
Tell  me,  you  that  are  parents,  do  your  erring  sons  and  dis- 
obedient daughters  cease  to  be  your  children  because  of  their 
aberrations  ?  Do  you  not  rather  still  more  deeply  feel  that  they 
are  bone  of  your  bone,  and  flesh  of  your  flesh  ?  Does  not  your 
love  to  them  increase  with  the  danger  to  which  you  see  them 
exposed?  And  are  you  not  more  fully  conscious,  when  com- 
pelled to  weep  over  them,  that  your  life  is  bound  up  with  theirs, 
than  when  they  merely  caused  you  joy  ?  If  ye  then,  being  evil, 
can  not  reject  your  own  seed,  how  should  He  be  able  to  forget 


PETER'S   TEARS.  191 

those  who  are  of  his  flesh  and  blood,  who  said,  "  As  my  Father 
lowth  me,  so  have  I  loved  you;"  and  by  the  mouth  of  his 
prophet,  "  Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking  child  that  she  should 
not  have  compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  ?  Yea,  she  may 
forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee.  Lo,  I  have  graven  thee  on  the 
palms  of  my  hands."  Peter,  though  fallen,  still  belonged  to  him. 
Though  he  had  acted  so  wickedly,  yet  his  Master's  love  for  him 
remains  unchanged.  See  how  carefully  he  looks  round  after 
him !  For  the  second  time  it  might  be  said,  with  reference  to 
Peter,  "  When  I  passed  by  thee,  and  saw  thee  polluted  in  thine 
own  blood,  I  said  unto  thee,  when  thou  wast  cast  out  into  the 
open  field,  and  lying  in  thy  blood,  yea,  I  said  unto  thee,  when 
thou  wast  in  thy  blood,  live !"  Certainly,  had  it  not  been  the 
Lord's  will  that  we  should  believe  that  the  covenant  of  grace, 
on  Ins  side,  stood  inviolably  fast,  he  would  have  hesitated  to 
have  set  before  us  such  examples  as  those  of  David  and  Peter. 
"And  Jesus  turned  and  looked  upon  him."  Yes,  "though  we 
believe  not,  yet  he  abideth  faithful ;  he  can  not  deny  himself;" 
for  "  the  foundation  of  God  standeth  sure ;  having  this  seal,  the 
Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his." 

The  Lord  turned  himself.  The  conversion  of  every  sinner 
begins  with  that  for  which  David  prays,  "  Look  upon  me  I"  By 
nature  we  are  like  dry  bones  in  a  huge  church-yard,  and  can  not 
come  to  him.  But  as  soon  as  the  Lord  begins  to  look  upon  us, 
its  effect  is  soon  felt.  Before  we  are  aware  we  enter  into  closer 
connection  with  him,  and  feel  that  he  is  near  us.  We  are  con- 
scious of  being  deeply  and  wondrously  affected  by  tilings,  which, 
otherwise,  we  scarcely  noticed.  The  idea  occurs  to  us,  in  a 
variety  of  circumstances,  that  God  intends  by  them  to  call  us  to 
repentance,  and  we  are  often  inclined  to  say  with  Jacob,  "  Surely 
the  Lord  was  in  this  place."  The  Almighty  is  then  no  longer 
distant  from  us  on  some  far-off  height,  but  pervades  our  cham- 
ber, and  meets  us  in  the  daily  occurrences  of  life.  Not  a  day 
passes  without  something  happening  which  compels  us  to  say, 
"  It  is  the  Lord !"  Yet  this  state  of  things  may  continue  long 
without  our  attaining  to  real  conversion  of  heart.  But  when  the 
faithful  Shepherd  begins  to  follow  after  us,  he  does  not  leave  us 
without  accomplishing  his  purpose. 


192  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

It  was  not  simply  the  crowing  of  the  cock  that  raised  the 
disciple  from  his  fall.  Nor  did  the  turning  of  the  Lord  toward 
him-  produce  the  desired  effect.  A  third  and  more  powerful 
means  was  added.  What  was  it  ?  A  word,  a  call,  an  exhorta- 
tion ? — No ;  a  look  which  the  eye  of  the  Keeper  of  Israel  cast 
upon  his  disciple,  who  was  staggering  on  the  brink  of  destruc- 
tion. This  look  did  wonders.  "The  Lord  turned,  and  looked 
upon  Peter."  What  a  look  must  that  have  been  !  What  divine 
sorrow  and  love  must  it  have  expressed !  and  how  accompanied 
by  the  effulgence  of  the  Spirit  and  the  radiance  of  divine  grace  1 
It  acted  both  as  a  sword  to  wound,  and  as  a  balm  to  heal.  It 
struck  like  destroying  lightning,  and  at  the  same  time  expanded 
itself  like  refreshing  dew.  0  there  is  inexpressible  power  in  the 
look  of  the  Lord !  With  a  look  of  majesty  he  beholds  the  earth, 
and  it  trembles.  With  a  judicial  look  he  overtakes  the  sinner, 
who  exclaims,  "I  perish  at  his  presence."  His  dying  look  on 
the  cross  melts  stony  hearts,  and  transforms  lions  into  lambs. 
With  a  look  of  forgiving  mercy,  he  makes  a  contrite  soul  forget 
heaven  and  earth  in  its  happiness ;  and  by  means  of  a  grieved 
and  loving  look,  he  restores  lambs  to  his  fold,  which  had  long 
gone  astray  in  the  wilderness.  To  this  day  his  people  feel  that 
his  eyes  are  upon  them,  and  according  to  what  they  read  in  them, 
their  peace  or  joy  rises  or  falls. 

The  Lord's  look  did  not  fail  of  its  effect  upon  Peter.  No 
sooner  did  the  disciple's  eyes  meet  his,  than  the  magic  band 
which  held  him  is  dissolved,  the  infernal  intoxication  dispelled, 
his  ear  opened,  and  reflection  returns — nay,  sin  is  acknowledged 
— his  heart  is  melted — the  snare  is  broken,  and  the  bird  has 
escaped.  "Gracious  God,"  is  now  his  language,  "how  deeply 
have  I  fallen  !  Wretch  that  I  am,  was  not  all  this  foretold  me  ? 
Said  he  not  on  the  way,  '  Before  the  cock  crows  twice,  thou  shalt 
deny  me  thrice  ?'  Woe  is  me,  that  in  foolish  presumption  I  re- 
pelled the  warning,  and  only  remember  it  now,  when  it  is  too  late ! 
I  vowed  to  go  with  him  to  prison  and  to  death ;  and  yet  1  am  the 
first  to  deny  and  abjure  him  !  How  is  it  that  the  earth  still  bears 
me,  and  that  heaven's  lightnings  do  not  blast  me!  Instead  of 
which,  he  who  so  kindly  forewarned  me,  and  whom  I  nevertheless 
abjured  and  ignored,  deigns  me  still  a  look  of  pity  and  compassion !" 


TETER'S   TEARS.  193 

Such  may  have  been  the  language  of  Peter's  soul,  when,  as 
the  narrative  informs  us,  "  he  remembered  the  word  of  the  Lord, 
Which  he  had  spoken  to  him."  He  would  now  have  infallibly 
me  a  prey  to  despair,  had  not  the  Saviour's  loving-kindness, 
by  means  of  the  conversation  on  the  way  to  Gethsemane,  made 
every  arrangement  for  preventing  Satan  from  sifting  the  poor 
disciple  too  severely.  His  Master's  prayer,  that  "his  faith 
might  not  fail,  had  surrounded  the  abyss,  as  it  were,  with  a 
balustrade,  and  by  his  injunction,  that  "  after  his  conversion,  he 
should  strengthen  his  brethren,"  had  made  preparation  for 
wiping  away  his  tears  long  before  they  fell.  0  how  did  the 
soothing  influence  of  all  the  words  which  the  gracious  friend  of 
sinners  had  spoken  to  him,'  shed  itself  upon  his  heart,  when  to 
them  was  added  that  look  so  full  of  mercy  and  compassion! 
Certainly,  no  one  ever  felt  himself  more  unhappy  than  Peter; 
but  what  would  have  been  his  misery  had  not  the  gracious  wings 
of  divine  pity  been  extended  over  him. 

Peter,  by  the  look  of  his  Master,  is  wholly  dissolved  in  grief 
and  humiliation.  He  covers  his  head  with  his  mantle,  as  if  he 
was  unworthy  to  appear  before  God  or  man,  and  begins  to 
"weep  bitterly."  These  are  the  tears,  of  which  it  is  written, 
"Put  them  into  thy  bottle;  are  they  not  in  thy  book?"  and 
from  the  sowing  of  which  a  harvest  of  joy  is  promised.  Like 
the  pearly  drops  which  burst,  in  spring,  from  the  branches  of 
the  vine,  they  testify  of  the  existence  of  life ;  and  in  the  eye  of 
the  sinner,  announce  to  Satan  the  loss  of  his  suit,  and  the  end 
of  his  triumph.  0  how  much  is  reflected  in  these  tears  !  What 
thorough  contrition  before  God,  what  holy  indignation  against 
sin,  what  an  ardent  thirst  for  grace,  and  what  fullness  of  fervent 
love  to  the  Lord  beam  forth  from  their  pure  light  I  "Be  not 
dreadful  to  me,  thou  who  art  my  refuge  in  distress!  Cast  me 
not  away  from  thy  presence !  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but 
thee  ?"  such  are  the  aspirations  which  issue  from  his  heart. 
All  his  desire  and  longing  center  in  this,  that  he  may  again 
rejoice  in  the  favor  of  the  Lord.  Though* he  were  to  become 
an  outcast  from  the  world  all  the  days  of  his  life,  and  as  regards 
his  body,  were  compelled  to  follow  in  the  steps  of  Job  and 
Lazarus,  yet  he  would  gladly  submit  to  all  this,  if  he  might  only 

9 


194  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

again  hope  for  mercy.  His  tears  announce  the  birth  of  a  new 
man.  The  old,  presumptuous,  self-seeking,  self-trusting  Adam 
is  dead,  and  a  man  of  humility,  filial  resignation  to  God,  and 
sincere  desire  that  the  name  of  the  Lord  may  alone  be  glorified, 
rises,  phoenix-life,  from  his  ashes. 

It  is  said  that  a  tear  glistened  in  Peter's  eye  as  long  as  he 
lived.  If  this  is  any  thing  but  a  legend,  it  was  not  a  tear  of 
sorrow  only,  but  of  joy  at  the  mercy  experienced,  tempered  only 
by  a  permanent  melancholy.  The  remembrance  of  his  fall 
never  left  him  for  a  moment;  and  in  the  degree  in  which  it 
kept  him  low,  it  sharpened  his  spiritual  vision  for  the  mystery 
of  the  cross  and  of  salvation  by  grace.  This  is  abundantly 
evident,  especially  in  his  first  epistle.  He  there  comforts  be- 
lievers with  the  cheering  assurance  that  they  are  "kept  by  the 
power  of  God,  through  faith  unto  salvation."  He  calls  upon 
them  to  "  hope  to  the  end  for  the  grace  that  shall  be  revealed." 
He  impressively  reminds  them  of  the  weakness  and  evanescent 
nature  of  every  thing  human,  while  calling  to  their  recollection 
the  words  of  the  prophet :  "  All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  glory 
of  man  as  the  flower  of  grass.  The  grass  withereth,  and  the 
flower  thereof  falleth  away."  He  speaks  of  "  the  precious  blood 
of  Christ  as  of  a  Lamb  without  spot,"  with  a  fervor  which  im- 
mediately indicates  him  as  one  who  had  deeply  experienced  its 
healing  power.  It  is  he  who  addresses  the  warning  to  us,  "  Be 
sober,  be  vigilant ;  for  your  adversary  the  devil  goeth  about  as  a 
roaring  lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour."  And  when  he 
quotes  the  psalm  in  which  it  is  said,  "  The  eyes  of  the  Lord 
are  upon  the  righteous ;  and  hi3  ears  are  open  to  their  cry ;  but 
the  face  of  the  Lord  is  against  them  that  do  evil" — does  it  not 
seem  as  if  he  iutentionally  referred  to  that  look  from  his 
Master  which  had  once  so  overwhelmed  Mm  and  cast  him  to 
the  ground  ? 

In  conclusion :  are  there  any  of  my  readers  who,  with 
reference  to  Peter,  are  presumptuous  enough  to  say  with  the 
Pharisee  of  old,  "  God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  that 
man  I"  0  how  much  of  the  guilt  of  denying  Christ,  either  in  a 
gross  or  subtle  manner,  rests  upon  us  all !"  How  much  reason 
have  we  also  to  be  alarmed  at  the  words,  "  He  that  denieth  me, 


"prophesy  to  US,  THOU  CHRIST."  105 

him  will  I  also  deny  before  my  Father  in  heaven."  Let  us 
therefore  cover  our  heads  with  our  mantles,  and  with  Peter,  go 
out  and  weep  bitterly;  that  a  day  of  grace  may  also  dawn  upon 
US,  and  that  the  words  of  the  apostle  maybe  also  applicable  to 
Such  were  some  of  you,  but  ye  are  washed,  ye  are 
sanctified,  ye  are  justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
by  the  Spirit  of  our  God." 


XXIII. 
"PROPHESY   TO   US,    THOU   CHRIST." 

We  have  now  to  proceed  to  the  contemplation  of  a  scene  which, 
with  regard  to  its  horrible  nature,  is  scarcely  paraleled  in  the 
whole  history  of  our  Saviour's  passion.  We  scarcely  know,  at 
first  sight,  what  to  say  of  such  a  spectacle.  We  shudder,  are 
horrified,  tremble,  and  look  away  from  such  ill-treatment,  and, 
covering  our  heads,  would  gladly  hasten  from  the  mournful 
sight,  exclaiming,  "  0  my  G-od,  who  can  bear  to  witness  such 
barbarity  1"  Let  us  not,  however,  hurry  away  from,  but  endure 
it,  and  throw  light  upon  the  revolting  scene,  which  at  first  appears 
to  us  so  incomprehensible,  by  referring  to  the  u  sure  word  of 
prophecy."  The  seemingly  impenetrable  darkness  will  then 
be  illumined,  and  that  winch  is  obscure  find  a  consolatory 
solution. 

The  sentence  is  passed  upon  Jesus.  Its  import  is  nothing  less 
than  death  to  the  Accused.  The  judicial  assembly,  after  its  first 
sitting,  wmich  began  during  the  night,  has  been  adjourned  for  a 
Bhort  time,  amid  wild  and  triumphant  uproar.  Meanwhile 
the  Divine  Sufferer  is  given  up  to  the  reckless  band  of  officers 
and  spearmen,  who  shamefully  ill-treat  him,  and  they  do  so  the 
more  boldly,  because  it  is  done  with  the  assent  and  for  the 
account  of  their  superiors,  aware  that  they  thereby  cause  the 
latter  satisfaction. 

Jesus  is  now  in  their  power,  and  he  must  dearly  pay  the 


196  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

penalty  of  his  conduct  "  But  why  must  he  suffer  ?  "What  has 
he  ever  done  to  offend  them  ?"  0  how  much,  notwithstanding 
his  best  intentions !  Did  he  not,  in  his  own  sacred  person,  hold 
up  to  them  a  mirror,  which  presented  to  them  the  dark  image 
of  their  own  ungodliness  ? — and  such  treatment  did  not  please 
them.  Was  not  an  evident  proof  afforded,  by  his  brilliant 
example,  that  they  were  going  the  wrong  road? — and  convic- 
tions of  this  kind  cut  them  to  the  heart.  By  his  calling  upon 
them  to  be  reconciled  unto  God,  had  he  not  plainly  told  them  to 
their  face  that  they  had  hitherto  lived  estranged  from  God? — 
and  such  disclosures  offend  and  cause  pain,  especially  when  the 
man's  own  conscience  unites  in  the  accusation.  Did  he  not  re- 
peatedly tell  them  that  a  new  birth  was  an  indispensable 
condition  attached  to  the  entering  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ? — 
and  what  else  were  they  to  understand  from  this  than  that  in 
their  present  state  they  were  in  danger  of  perishing  ? — but  who 
likes  to  hear  of  such  things  ? 

It  was  thus  that  a  mass  of  rage  and  vexation  had  by  degrees 
accumulated  within  them.  A  horrible  state,  it  is  true,  but  one 
which  only  testifies  for  Jesus.  Believe  me,  my  readers,  that  the 
adversaries  of  the  Lord  and  his  word  among  us  are,  for  the 
most  part,  like  a  wounded  stag  flying  from  the  hunters.  They 
feel  that  the  teachings  of  Christ  destroy  their  false  peace,  con- 
demn their  carnality,  and  demand  the  sacrifice  of  their  idols; 
and  hence  they  are  averse  to  and  incensed  against  him  even  to 
blasphemy.  They  joyfully  greet  every  attempt  which  tends  to 
degrade  Jesus  to  a  mere  human  Rabbi ;  for  all  their  efforts  are 
directed  solely  to  escape  from  the  obligations  they  lie  under  to 
him.  Almost  -in  every  case  where  enmity  against  Christ  is 
manifested,  it  may  be  traced  to  these  corrupt  motives.  The 
Christian  religion  disturbs  the  hornet's  nest,  tears  away  the 
plasters  and  coverings  from  secret  wounds,  and  awakens  the 
conscience,  which  had  been  rendered  lethargic  by  a  variety  of 
magic  potions ;  and  hence  their  hatred  and  animosity  to  it. 

Before  we  approach  the  revolting  scene  in  the  court-yard  of 
the  high  priest's  palace,  let  us  again  call  to  mind  who  it  is  we 
have  before  us  in  the  individual  thus  ill-treated.  We  are  about 
to  witness  unheard-of  outrages,  at  which  the  rocks  might  rend 


197 

with  horror.  When,  toward  the  close  of  the  last  century,  the 
ruthless  mob  put  the  red  revolutionary  cap  on  the  head  of  the 
unfortunate  king  of  France,  amid  shouts  of  derisive  laughter, 
and  then  cut  their  infernal  jokes  on  his  royal  dignity — a  cry  of 
horror  and  indignation  ran  through  the  world ;  and  he  in  whose 
heart  there  glimmered  only  a  spark  of  piety  and  right  feeling, 
turned  away  with  disgust  from  such  a  revolting  spectacle.  But 
what  was  that,  or  any  other  event  of  the  kind  which  the  world's 
history  records,  compared  with  the  scene  which  we  are  now 
called  to  behold  ?  If  the  person  to  whom  our  eyes  are  directed 
had  been  only  an  earthly  dignitary,  even  then  the  contrast  of 
his  dreadful  fate  with  his  exalted  position  would  greatly  horrify 
us,  and  we  should  be  unable  to  refrain  from  calling  out,  "  You 
go  too  far ;  cease  your  ill-treatment ;  men  whom  the  Lord  places 
in  such  high  positions  ought  not  to  be  treated  in  so  disgraceful  a 
manner  !"  But  here,  as  you  know,  is  a  greater  than  any  human 
potentate.  He  who  is  maltreated  yonder  is  the  same  who  spoke 
to  the  storm  and  the  waves,  saying,  "  Be  still,"  and  they  obeyed ; 
who,  -with  a  word,  called  forth  the  dead  from  the  bier  and  the 
tomb;  at  whose  bidding  stand  the  angelic  hosts  of  heaven; 
nay,  through  whom,  and  to  whom  are  all  things  that  were  cre- 
ated, and  who  could  justly  say,  "I  and  my  Father  are  one." 
"He  that  seeth  me,  seeth  the  Father."  "My  Father  woiketh 
hitherto,  and  I  work."  "  All  men  shall  honor  the  Son,  even  as 
they  honor  the  Father."  It  is  upon  him,  the  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords,  in  whom  dwelleth  all  the  fullness  of  the  Godhead 
bodily,  that  the  recreants  trample  with  their  dirty  feet.  It  is  in 
the  face  of  Eternal  Love  that  they  spit.  It  is  the  Source  of 
Life  whom  they  smite  with  their  fists,  and  it  is  him  whom  the 
heavens  adore  that  they  insult  with  their  venomous  tongues, 
which  are  set  on  fire  of  hell.  Yes,  it  was  upon  him  that  all  this 
was  inflicted,  who  had  just  before  affirmed  on  oath,  in  the  full 
consciousness  of  his  divine  dignity,  that  he  was  the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  living  God,  and  who  had  afterward  added,  "  I  say 
unto  you  that  hereafter  ye  shall  see  the  Sc  ti  of  Man  sitting  on 
the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven." 

It  is,  therefore,  a  monstrous   spectacle  which  is  presented  to 
our  view.     The  world  never  afterward  beheld  any  thing  similar. 


198  THE  HOLT   PLACE. 

What  we  call  compassion  does  not  seem  here  to  correspond  with 
the  subject;  nor  is  there  any  room  for  the  idea  of  an  unfor- 
tunate and  pitiable  mortal,  such  as  is  the  case  in  other  instances. 
Every  one  feels  that  here  is  an  occurrence  entirely  isolated  from 
the  rank  of  similar  events  in  the  world's  history,  and  that  it 
must  necessarily  be  of  an  extraordinary  nature.  Every  one 
must  be  conscious  that  the  individual  freely  and  voluntarily 
gave  himself  up  to  the  horrible  treatment  he  experienced;  and 
that  the  idea  of  One  who  was  overcome,  and  yielded  to  superior 
power,  must  be  wholly  excluded.  He  that  was  thus  covered 
with  insult  was  neither  weaker  nor  less  powerful  than  at  the 
moment  when,  with  a  single  word,  he  overthrew  the  whole 
company  of  his  adversaries.  In  the  nameless  wretchedness  in 
which  we  now  find  him,  he  was  not  less  the  "stronger"  than 
"  the  strong  armed  man,"  than  at  the  moment  when  the  legion 
of  foul  fiends,  entreating  to  be  spared,  fled  before  his  face. 
Though  he  may  seem  to  be  nothing  but  a  broken  reed  and  a 
worm  trodden  under  foot,  yet  the  sword  of  Omnipotence  is  not 
the  less  girded  upon  him,  nor  the  bow  of  his  strength  broken. 
What  but  a  single  word  from  him  was  requisite,  and  the  mur- 
derous band  would  have  lain  annihilated  at  his  feet?  But  he 
did  not  make  use  of  his  power.  He  suffered  voluntarily.  It  is 
with  his  own  consent  that  he  is  plunged  into  these  depths  of 
horror.  Imagine,  therefore,  the  magnitude  of  the  purposes 
which  lie  at  the  basis  of  this  resignation  of  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel.  The  sufferings  of  Jesus  as  such,  compel  us  to  admit 
their  atoning  signification. 

Let  us  come  nearer  to  the  scene.  Imagine  a  Holy  One 
appearing  again  in  this  sinful  world.  Scarcely  does  he  show  him- 
self than  mankind  act  toward  him  as  if  they  were  hyaenas  and 
devils.  To  such  a  degree  is  heavenly  purity  become  odious  to 
them,  and  that  which  is  divinely  reverent,  abominable  !  Alas ! 
what  is  done  to  thee,  thou  who  art  fairer  than  the  children  of 
men !  How  is  thy  benignant  countenance  disfigured !  One 
would  gladly  close  one's  eyes  to  such  a  spectacle.  Hast  thou 
merited  this  at  our  hands,  0  Eternal  Love?  Is  this  the  due 
reward  for  thy  loving-kindness  ?  And  yet,  however  much  thou 
art  insulted,  thou  wilt  not  forsake  us,  till  thou  hast  rescued  us 


"prophesy  to  us,  thou  cheist."  199 

from   the   curse,  even  though  it  should  cost  thee   thy  life.      O 
What  is  left  for  us  but  to  sink  down  in  the  dust,  to  cover  our 
and  to  melt  into  glowing  tears  of  penitence  and  thank- 
fullness  ! 

Look  what  occurs!  When  sentence  is  pronounced  upon  a 
malefactor,  and  the  judicial  decision  is  read,  a  solemn  silence 
usually  pervades  the  auditory,  and  a  feeling  of  solemnity  takes 
sssion  of  them.  Every  one  feels  the  majesty  of  the  law, 
wiiich,  whenever  transgressed,  justly  demands  satisfaction.  It 
is  as  if  Eternal  Justice  in  person  had  come  down  and  established 
its  throne  upon  earth.  And  the  condemned  criminal  is  not 
merely  an  object  of  compassion,  but  he  is  regarded  with  a  kind 
of  reverence,  because  the  moral  government  of  the  world  de- 
mands him  as  an  atonement.  In  the  condemnation  of  Jesus, 
however,  no  feelings  of  this  nature  appear  to  have  been  ex- 
cited in  the  reprobate  host  of  his  adversaries.  Scarcely  has 
the  word  "  Guilty"  been  uttered,  when  they  fall  upon  him ; 
.and,  0,  what  revolting  scenes  are  now  unfolded  to  our  view! 
The  world  had  never  before  witnessed  any  thing  so  horrible. 
Cain's  fratricide — Manasseh's  blood-guiltiness: — what  were  they, 
compared  with  these  flagitious  acts?  Alas!  what  will  become 
of  our  Lord  and  Master!  Ought  we  not  to  feel  petrified 
with  horror  and  astonishment?  They  have  now  got  him 
among  them,  and  they  load  him,  first  of  all,  with  the  vilest 
execrations  and  insults.  But  they  are  not  satisfied  with  thus 
heaping  obloquy  upon  him.  They  smite  him  with  their  hands. 
But  even  this  does  not  satisfy  their  thirst  for  revenge.  He 
must  feel  more  painfully  still  how  utterly  he  is  despised.  They 
open  their  mouths  against  him,  and,  horrible  to  relate !  they 
spit  upon  his  sacred  face,  with  gestures  and  grimaces  of  the 
rudest  kind.  Nor  is  their  rage  yet  cooled,  nor  their  satanic 
inventions  exhausted.  "  The  wicked,"  as  the  prophet  says, 
"  are  like  the  troubled  sea,  whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and 
dirt."  The  reprobates  seek  for  some  new  outrage,  and  it  soon 
occurs  to  them.  They  have  heard  how  the  object  of  their  ill- 
usage  had  jusUbefore  solemnly  asserted  in  the  council-chamber, 
that  he  was  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  and  for  this  he 
must  now  be  especially  punished.     The  arrows  of  their  bitterest 


200  TIIE   HOXY   PLACE. 

ridicule  are  therefore  directed  against  his  Messiahship,  and  par- 
ticularly against  his  prophetical  office.  They  bind  the  eyes  of 
the  patient  sufferer  with  a  cloth,  then  smite  him  with  their  fists, 
and  exclaim,  amid  peals  of  sneering  laughter,  "Prophesy  to 
us,  thou  Christ,  who  it  is  that  smiteth  thee !" 

But  I  will  let  the  curtain  drop.  Who  'can  longer  contemplate 
such  a  scene?  0,  it  is  too  appalling!  What  infernal  wicked- 
ness meets  our  view!  And  from  whence  does  it  proceed? 
From  the  human  heart.  But  how  could  a  race  that  is  capable 
of  such  things  be  received  into  the  favor  of  God,  without  an 
atonement  and  a  mediator?  What  would  have  become  of  the 
glory  of  his  justice  and  holiness,  if  he  had  suffered  such  degen- 
erate beings  to  be  spared  without  a  satisfaction  ?  Nor  ought  you 
to  regard  the  perpetrators  of  the  outrages  we  have  been  describ- 
ing, as  depraved  above  all  others.  Believe  me,  that  according  to 
its  inmost  being,  every  natural  human  heart  is  alike.  Even 
those  who  refuse  to  hear  of  redemption  and  atonement,  do  not 
fail,  unconsciously  and  involuntarily,  to  condemn  human  nature, 
every  moment,  in  the  most  grievous  manner.  Hear  their  lan- 
guage, "  Egotism  rules  the  world."  "  Every  one  seeks  his  own." 
"  Woe  to  him  that  falls  into  the  hands  of  man !"  "  Friendship 
lasts  only  during  prosperity."  "Every  man  has  his  price." 
"Let  no  one  be  surety  for  another's  virtue."  "Opportunity  is 
the  ruler  of  mankind."  "  In  the  misfortunes  of  our  best  friends 
we  find  something  that  does  not  displease  us."'  Such  are  the 
expressions  which  are  constantly  flowing  from  the  lips  of  the 
men  of  the  world.  How  completely  do  they  'thereby  pronounce 
the  human  heart  to  be  depraved  and  corrupt !  Have  they  not> 
therefore,  sufficient  cause  to  welcome  a  Deliverer  with  rejoicing, 
instead  of  coldly,  or  even  sneeringly  turning  their  backs  upon  him  ? 

But  to  return  to  the  question — "Prophesy  unto  us,  thou 
Christ,  who  it  was  that  smote  thee  ?"  From  the  lips,  by  which 
these  words  were  uttered,  they  were  only  blasphemous  ridicule 
and  a  burst  of  depravity.  But  in  themselves,  and  apart  from 
the  feeling  which  accompanied  them,  they  appear  in  the  form  of 
a  question  of  the  first  importance ;  and  he  that  has  found  the 
right  answer  to  it,  is  acquainted  with  the  groundwork  of  our 
salvation  and  entire  redemption. 


"prophesy  TO  US,  THOU  CHRIST."  201 

Many  have  impiously  repeated  the  inquiry  of  the  reprobate 
troop  and  have  thought  within  themselves,  "  How  does  he 
know  whether  we  honor  him,  or  trample  upon  him?  Where 
is  he  ;o  be  found  ?  Eighteen  centuries  ago,  he  went  the  way  of 
all  flesh,  and  the  dead  rest  in  their  graves."  By  acting  thus, 
they  have,  as  far  as  they  are  concerned,  again  bound  his  eyes, 
and  sneerin^y  said  to  him,  "Prophesy,  if  thou  art  still  alive, 
and  nearest,  and  seest,  who  it  is  that  smote  thee !"  I  could  re- 
late to  my  readers,  how  he  has,  in  part  at  least,  replied  to  them. 
One  he  answered  by  reducing  him  to  extreme  poverty.  Another, 
by  disgracing  his  name  before  the  world.  A  third,  by  striking 
him  with  madness ;  and  others,  again,  by  giving  them  up  to  the 
paths  of  the  destroyer,  and  permitting  them  to  sink  into  the 
lowest  depths  of  depravity,  and  suffering  despair  to  seize  upon 
them  on  their  death-beds,  and  rendering  their  descent  into  the 
regions  of  darkness  palpable  .  to  the  horror-stricken  bystanders. 
And  how  many  of  those  who  now  say,  "  Who  is  Jesus,  that  I 
should  be  afraid  of  him,  or  even  humble  myself  before  him?" 
when  once  he  replies  to  them,  will  call  upon  the  rocks  to  fall 
upon  them,  and  the  hills  to  cover  them,  that  they  may  be' hidden 
from  the  face  of  him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  from  the 
wrath  of  the  Lamb !  0  let  no  one  suppose  that  the  Judge  of 
the  world  will  suffer  himself  to  be  mocked  with  impunity. 
Rather  let  them  "  kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  they  perish 
from  the  way,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little." 

"Prophesy  to  us,  thou  Christ,  who  it  is  that  smote  thee!" 
The  mockers  received  no  reply  to  this  question.  Jesus  was 
silent.  But  we  may  give  a  different  turn  to  the  inquiry,  and 
the  answer  will  prove  consolatory.  Let  those  who  are  earnestly 
Recking  salvation,  and  the  contrite  in  neart,  humbly  inquire, 
"Who  it  was  that  smote  the  Lord?"  and  they  will  receive  a 
Satisfactory  reply.  At  first,  indeed,  it  will  alarm  them;  for  it 
will  be,  "not  those  miscreants;  but  it  is  thou  who  hast  made 
me  to  serve  with  thy  sins,  and  wearied  me  with  thy  iniquities. 
For  thy  transgressions  was  I  smitten."  And  when  he  himself 
prophesies  this  to  you  by  his  Spirit — how  evident  it  will  then 
become  to  you ;  how  will  you  humble  yourselves  in  the  dust  be- 
fore him ;  how  the  wish  will  then  depart  to  lay  the  blame  upon 

9* 


202  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Caiaphas,  Annas,  and  the  spearmen;  how  vitally  are  you  per- 
suaded that  they  were  only  your  representatives,  and  how  will 
you  hang  down  your  heads,  and  learn  to  smite  upon  your  breasts 
with  the  publican!  How  will  you  tremble  for  your  souls,  and 
earnestly  seek  for  salvation  and  a  Mediator! 

But  know  that  this  is  only  half  the  answer  to  your  question. 
Continue  to  ask,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  a  gracious 
message  will  be  delivered  you.  Tins  will  be  its  import:  "The 
hand  that  smote  me  would  have  crushed  you.  The  curse  fell 
upon  me  which  was  destined  for  you.  I  drank  the  cup  of 
wrath  which  your  sins  had  filled.  I  drank  it,  that  it  might  be 
replenished  for  you  with  everlasting  mercy."  And  when  this 
conviction  pervades  you,  do  not  doubt  that  it  is  really  from  him. 
As  the  Lord  liveth,  it  is  his  own  communication;  and  if  you 
are  still  unwilling  to  believe,  listen  to  the  cheering  words  of  the 
apostles  and  evangelists,  who  assure  you  that  "  God  made  him 
to  be  sin  for  us;"  and  that  "Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from  the 
curse  of  the  law,  having  been  made  a  curse  for  us." 

You  now  know  who  it  is  that  smote  the  Saviour,  and  that  it 
was  the  sin  of  each  of  us.  Does  not  this  clearly  appear  from 
the  circumstances  of  our  Lord's  passion  themselves  ?  Does  it 
not  seem  strange  to  you  that  Jesus  acted  so  patiently,  meekly, 
and  resignedly  under  such  barbarous  treatment  ?  Is  it  not  won- 
derful that  his  tormentors  were  suffered  to  go  unpunished? 
Are  you  not  in  the  highest  degree  astonished  that  the  ruthless 
band  were  not  crushed  by  lightning  from  heaven ;  and  that  on 
the  contrary,  the  Almighty  observed  silence,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened  which  was  not  in  the  regular  course  of  things? 
Korah  and  his  company  had  no  sooner  rebelhously  attacked 
only  Aaron's  priestly  dignity,  than  the  Lord  rent  the  ground  be- 
neath their  feet,  and  sent  them  down  quick  into  the  pit.  Uzzah 
was  guilty  of  a  seemingly  slight  irreverence  toward  the  ark, 
and  the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  kindled  against  him,  and  smote 
him,  so  that  he  fell  dead  on  the  ground.  But  how  much  more  is 
there  here  than  the  ark  and  Aaron  the  priest!  Here  they 
trample  the  Son  of  G-od  in  the  mire,  and  the  Judge  of  quick  and 
dead  is  mute,  as  if  all  was  right.  Tell  me,  does  not  all  tins 
amaze  you  ?     Does  it  not  excite  in  you  the  most  fearful  and  yet 


CHRIST   BEFORE   THE   SANHEDRIM.  203 

the  most  stupendous  expectations  ?  Give  room  to  the  Latter,  and 
you  will  find  them  not  unfounded.  Rightly  understood,  it  is 
God  himself,  who  smites  the  sufferer,  on  whom  the  chastisement 
of  our  peace  was  laid;  and  what  he  endures  are  the  strokes 
of  that  sword,  to  which  Jehovah  said,  "Awake,  against  my  Shep- 
herd and  the  man  that  is  my  fellow."  They  fall  upon  him,  that 
we  sinners  might  be  forever  exonerated. 

Such,  my  readers,  is  the  solution  of  this  great  mystery,  and 
the  complete  answer  to  the  question,  "Who  smote  thee,  thou 
Christ  ?"  No  sooner  does  the  light  of  a  propitiation  shine  upon 
the  obscurity  of  the  events  of  the  passion  than  all  is  cleared  up, 
and  the  deepest  mysteries  are  unsealed. 


XXIV. 

CHRIST  BEFORE  THE  SANHEDRIM. 

After  a  horrible  night,  the  morning  breaks,  and  announces  the 
(|awn  of  the  most  important  and  momentous  of  all  earthly  days. 
It  is  G-ood  Friday,  that  most  dreadful  accuser  of  the  sinful 
world,  but  at  the  same  time,  the  birthday  of  its  salvation,  and 
the  dawn  of  its  eternal  redemption.  It  is  the  day  typified  by  the 
deliverance  of  the  chosen  race  out  of  Egypt,-  and  annually  an- 
nounced to  the  believing  Israelites  for  upward  of  a  thousand 
years,  in  the  great  day  of  atonement,  which  was  the  chief 
object  of  their  hopes  and  desires.  All  the  radiations  of  grace, 
which  had  ever  beamed  upon  them,  were  only  preliminary 
emanations  of  this  day,  which  still  slept  in  the  lap  of  a  fai 
distant  future ;  and  whenever  God  favorably  regarded  a  sinner, 
3  solely  on  the  ground  of  the  propitiation  by  the  blood  of 
Christ,  which  was  actually  made  upon  this  day. 

Notwithstanding  the  very  early  hour,  the  members  of  the 
council  at  Jerusalem  are  up  and  in  full  activity.  They  are 
preparing  a  second  examination  of  Jesus,  "that  they  might  put 
him  f<>  death."  But  have  they  not  already  established  his  guilt, 
and  pronounced  sentence   against  him?      Certainly  they  have. 


204  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

But  yet  they  are  not  satisfied,  and  would'  gladly  find  out  other 
and  more  decisive  proofs  against  him,  than  those  on  which  their 
judgment  was  founded.  It  is  evident  that  our  Lord's  whole 
demeanor,  during  the  first  hearing,  and  especially  his  great 
confession,  which  was  uttered  with  such  majestic  decision  and 
confidence,  had  left  a  powerful  impression  upon  them;  and 
what  remains  of  conscience  they  still  possessed,  awoke  from 
its  slumbers  and  stung  them.  The  irresolution  we  perceive  in 
them,  as  well  as  the  hope  they  betray  of  obtaining  fresh  and 
more  substantial  grounds  of  justification  with  reference  to  their 
murderous  purpose,  places  this  beyond  a  doubt. 

They  now  meet  in  their  hall  of  session,  which  was  in  one  of 
the  buildings  of  the  temple,  in  the  character  of  a  regular  plenary 
assembly,  because  their  first  meeting  in  the  high  priest's  palace — 
apart  from  the  absence  of  several  of  its  members — bore  the 
aspect  of  being  accidental  and  tumultuous.  The  council  or 
Sanhedrim,  was,  as  you  know,  the  supreme  court  of  judicature 
of  the  later  Jews,  and  consisted  of  seventy-one  members,  includ- 
ing the  chief  priests,  elders,  and  doctors  of  the  law,  or  scribes, 
under  the  presidency  of  the  high  priest,  which,  formed  on  the 
model  of  the  seventy  elders,  whom  Moses  joined  with  him  for 
the  administration  of  justice,  during  the  journey  of  the  Israelites 
through  the  wilderness,  had  to  judge  and  decide  in  all  national 
Jewish,  and  particularly  in  ecclesiastical  affairs.  Christ,  ac- 
cording to  Matt,  xxiii.  2,  regarded  this  authority  as  being 
divinely  sanctioned,  and  submitted  without  objection  to  its 
citation.  Before  this  tribunal,  Peter  subsequently  stood,  as  a 
pretended  wonder-worker,  and  again,  in  company  with  John,  as 
a  deceiver  of  the  people ;  further,  Stephen,  as  a  blasphemer,  and 
Paul,  accused  of  being  a  false  prophet.  After  the  Romans  had 
possession  of  the  country,  this  court  of  judicature  was  deprived 
of  the  right  of  carrying  its  sentences  of  death  into  execution  by 
its  own  authority,  which  required,  as  appears  from  John,  xviii. 
31,  the  sanction  of  the  Roman  procurator.  The  stoning  of 
Stephen  without  it,  was  a  transgression  of  the  rule,  for  which 
the  Jews  might  have  found  an  excuse  in  the  fact  that  the 
governor,  who  usually  resided  at  Cassarea,  was  at  that  time 
absent  from  Jerusalem. 


CHRIST  BEFORE  THE   SANHEDRIM.  205 

We  now  see  our  Lord  brought  a  second  time  before  this  court, 
conducted  up  the  hill  on  which  the  temple  stands  by  an 
armed  escort.  It  is  his  last  passage  along  that  road,  and  by  a 
remarkable  coincidence,  it  occurs  at  the  same  time  with  the 
.1  lambs,  which  are  on  that  day  brought  to  the  priests  for 
sacrifice.  What  may  have  been  his  feelings  on  this  occasion! 
He  certainly  thought  of  the  typical  journey  of  Abraham  to 
Mount  Moriah,  winch  was  now  so  visibly  fulfilled  in  him. 
For  Christ,  as  the  antitype  of  Isaac,  is  now  proceeding  to  the 
altar  of  God  upon  the  same  path  which  once  his  human  type, 
led  by  his  father,  had  trodden  for  the  same  purpose.  Christ, 
indeed,  does  not  say  like  Abraham's  son,  "My  father,  behold 
the  fire  and  the  wood,  but  where  is  the  lamb  for  a  burnt-offer- 
ing?" He  knows  what  the  lamb  is  which  God  has  provided, 
and  willingly  bows  to  the  divine  decree.  He  is  also  aware  that 
in  his  case  it  will  not  be  merely  a  sacrifice  of  the  will,  and  that 
after  he  has  ascended  the  altar,  an  angel  from  heaven  will  cry, 
saying,  "  Lay  not  thine  hand  upon  the  lad,"  but  that  he  has  to 
recognize  his  type  not  only  in  Isaac,  but  also  in  the  ram  whose 
horns  were  caught  in  the  thicket,  and  which  Abraham,  at  Jeho- 
vah's command,  took,  in  order  to  slay  it  in  the  place  of  his  son. 

The  sitting  of  the  Sanhedrim  commences.  The  accused  stands 
at  the  bar.  He  is  again  asked  by  the  judge,  "Art  thou  the 
Christ?  tell  us!"  as  if  he  had  not  already  plainly  told  them 
that  he  was.  But  it  would  seem  as  if  they  hesitated  to  deliver 
him  up  to  death,  as  a  deceiver  and  a  blasphemer,  on  this  account, 
without  any  thing  further — nay,  as  if  they  involuntarily  sought 
to  prolong  the'  affair,  because  a  slight  echo  of  the  voice  of  con- 
science told  them — not,  indeed,  that  he  really  was  what  he  gave 
himself  out  to  be — but  that  it  possibly  might  be  the  case.  The 
Lord  opens  his  mouth;  and  now  mark  how  the  tables  are 
turned,  and  the  accused  becomes  judge,  and  his  judges  the  de- 
linquents. "  If  I  tell  you,"  says  he,  "  ye  will  not  believe ;  and 
if  I  also  ask  you  (that  is,  if  I  were  to  attempt  to  convince  you 
by  proofs),  ye  will  not  answer  me,  nor  let  me  go." 

0  how  many  there  are  in  the  present  day,  to  whom  these 
words  are  applicable !  I  do  not  now  refer  to  people  who  are 
entirely  indifferent  to  religion.     I  mean  such  as  are  continually 


206  THE    HOLY    PLACE. 

inquiring  who  Christ  is,  and  would  seern  to  have  no  rest  until 
they  were  convinced.  But  although  he  is  brought  before  them, 
first  in  one  form  and  then  in  another,  still  they  do  not  believe. 
The  Church  tells  them,  in  the  second  article  of  its  Confession  of 
Faith,  but  they  say,  "  The*  Church  may  err.  What  da  the  cotem- 
poraries  of  Jesus  say  ?"  The  apostles  tell  them,  as  with  one 
voice,  "  He  is  the  Word  that  was  wifti  God  from  the  beginning, 
and  was  God;  the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  in  whom 
dwelt  all  tt  3  fullness  of  the  Godhead  bodily."  But  to  this  they 
reply  with  a  gesture  of  dissent,  "  Love  is  blind,  and  enthusiasm 
is  visionary."  They  will  only  receive  what  Jesus  says  of  him- 
self. And  Jesus-"  comes  forward  and  announces  himself,  not  only 
as  the  light  of  the  world,  the  truth  and  the  life,  but  as  greater 
than  all  this — as  one  with  the  Father,  as  being  before  Abraham, 
and  to  whom  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth  is  given.  Do  they 
now  believe  ?"  They  start;  but  before  we  are  aware,  they  again 
slip  out  by  means  of  a  variety  of  questions,  such  as,  "  Did  the 
historians  rightly  understand  Jesus  ?  Are  his  expressions  to  be 
taken  literally  ?  Is  it  possible,  generally  speaking,  for  Deity  to 
become  incarnate?"  etc.  And  when  the  Lord  condescends,  in 
a  convincing  manner  to  these  skeptics,  and  by  a  direct  influence 
on  their  minds,  or  by  means  of  his  ministers,  begins  to  ask 
them  who  else  he  could  be,  if  he  were  not  the  One  whom  he 
gave  himself  out  to  be,  after  the  predictions  of  two  thousand 
years  had  reached  their  fulfillment  in  him  to  an  iota — after  his 
resurrection  from  the  dead  had  been  established  even  by  his 
enemies — after  having  been  subsequently  seen  by  a  host  of 
disciples  who  joyfully  hazarded  their  blood  and  their  lives 
for  him — after  the  Holy  Spirit,  according  to  his  promise,  had 
really  visited  the  earth  with  his  regenerating  influences — after 
the  best  of  the  human  race,  for  eighteen  centuries,  had  honored 
and  adored  him — and  seeing  that  his  Church  testifies  for  him 
more  loudly  than  any  word  or  single  act  can  do — they  are 
silenced,  and  have  reached  the  end  of  their  objections,  but  still 
do  not  believe,  and  yet  do  not  let  the  Lord  go,  since  they  cease 
not  to  doubt  of  his  superhuman  dignity,  and  to  rerder  it  sus- 
pected by  others.  They  will  not  believe.  This  is  tie  solution 
of  the  problem.     They  are  horrified  at  the  thougiic  of  being 


CHRIST  BEFORE   THE   SANHEDRIM.  207 

obliged  to  crucify  the  idols  of  their  own  wisdom  and  righteous- 
as  well  as  the  honors  and  pleasures  of  the  world,  for  the 
mke  of  Christ,  They  see  an  abyss  open  between  them  and  the 
Lord,  which  threatens  to  swallow  up  nothing  less  than  their 
entiie  glory  and  self-sufficiency,  and  they  start  back  from  such  a 
death.  They  are  still  too  conscientious  to  part  with  him  de- 
cidedly, like  the  Gadarenes,  and  to  say,  "  What  have  we  to  do 
with  thee  ?"  but  not  conscientious  enough  to  give  admission  to 
the  truth.  They  rather  let  the  matter  rest,  and  come  to  no 
decision. 

The  Lord  renews  his  declaration.  The  constituted  authori- 
ties demand  it,  and  he  obeys.  Besides,  it  is  of  importance  to 
him  that  the  world  should  know,  with  certainty,  who  he  was, 
and  whom  they  crucified.  From  the  summit  of  the  eminence 
on  which  the  temple  stood,  he  surveys  in  spirit  the  human  race 
and  the  ages  to  come.  He  once  more  raises  the  vail  from  his 
humble  guise,  and  baring  the  regal  star  upon  his  breast,  he  says, 
"  Hereafter  shall  the  Son  of  Man  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
power  of  God."  A  sublime  expression,  evidently  having  refer- 
ence to  the  remarkable  passage  in  Daniel,  vii.  13  :  "  One  like  the 
Son  of  Man  came  with  the  clouds  of  heaven."  The  priests  and 
scribes  could  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that  by  this  he  declared 
himself  to  be  the  Messiah  promised  by  the  inspired  seer,  and 
thus  claimed  divine  nature  and  essentiality.  He  intimated,  even 
by  the  name  by  which  he  usually  designated  himself,  that  his 
humanity  was  only  something  attached  to  his  person  in  an  extra- 
ordinary way.  For  had  he  been  conscious  of  being  a  mere  man, 
what  kind  of  meaning  would  attach  to  that  striking  appellation  ? 
His  prediction  concerning  his  approaching  sitting  at  the  right 
hand  of  power,  or  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  is  nothing  less  than  a 
decided  declaration  that  he  would  divide  the  throne  of  glory  with 
his  heavenly  Father,  and  with  him  rule  the  world  in  equal  per- 
fection of  power.  The  Sanhedrim,  conversant  with  the  language 
of  the  prophets,  understood  the  words  in  this  sense.  "  Art 
thou  then  the  Son  of  God  ?"  cried  they  all,  as  with  one  voice. 
*  Ye  say  that  which  I  am,"  replied  he,  with  majestic  firmness 
and  composure. 

The    Lord   has   repeated   his   great   confession.      The    whole 


208  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

assembly  rise  in  real  or  dissembled  indignation  and  astonish- 
ment. One  exclaims  louder  than  the  other,  "  What  need  we 
any  further  witness;  for  we  ourselves  have  heard  it  from  his 
own  lips?"  True,  they  have  heard  it  from  his  own  mouth. 
This  their  confession  has  been  recorded  in  heaven,  and  will, 
without  fail,  be  brought  against  them  at  the  day  of  judgment. 
Wherewith,  then,  will  they  justify  their  refusing  to  pay  homage 
to  the  Lord,  seeing  that- in  reality  they  needed  no  further  wit- 
ness ?  On  account  of  this  testimony  they  condemned  Jesus  to 
death,  and  by  so  doing,  for  the  confirmation  of  our  faith,  only 
established  the  fact  of  the  testimony  having  proceeded  from  his 
own  lips.  Even  to  this  hour,  the  tradition  exists  among  the 
Jews,  that  Christ  was  crucified  because  he  made  himself  equal 
with  God,  and  therefore  was  guilty  of  blasphemy.  Hence, 
nothing  in  the  world  is  so  beyond  a  doubt  as  that  Jesus  actually 
made  that  judicial  confession  of  his  divine  Sonship.  He  who 
seeks  to  view  him  as  any  thing  less  than  the  Eternal  Son,  brands 
him  as  a  blasphemer,  and  convicts  him,  with  the  Jewish  council, 
as  being  worthy  of  death. 

After  sentence  of  death  on  the  divine  sufferer  had  thus  been 
confirmed,  the  officers  approach,  in  order  again  to  put  on  his 
fetters,  which  had  been  for  the  time  removed.  He  willingly 
offers  his  hand,  that  the  words  of  Isaiah  might  be  fulfilled 
(chap.  liii.  7),  "  He  was  oppressed,  and  he  was  afflicted,  yet  he 
opened  not  his  mouth.  He  is  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter, 
and  as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his 
mouth."  He  who  had  just  before  solemnly  asserted  his  equality 
with  G-od,  with  the  consent  of  the  whole  heavenly  world,  ap- 
pears now  in  fetters  like  a  rebel.  How  monstrous  the  contrast, 
how  great  the  contradiction!  But  how  obvious  it  is  that  it 
is  a  voluntary  act  on  the  Lord's  part ;  and  how  clearly  do  we 
again  read  in  the  soul  of  the  holy  sufferer  the  words,  "  Then  I 
restored  that  which  I  took  not  away !"  His  fetters  have  contri- 
buted to  procure  our  redemption ;  for  Satan  would  have  held  us 
eternally  captive  had  Jesus  preferred  liberty  to  bonds.  Hor- 
rible and  heart-affecting  it  is  to  see,  that  those  hands,  which  were 
only  employed  in  offices  of  mercy,  are  bound  with  cords,  like  the 
hands  ot  a  felon,  by  the  very  world  to  which  they  were  extended 


CHRIST  BEFORE   THE   SANHEDRIM.  209 

only  in  blessing.  But  God  be  thanked  that  he  restrained  the 
lightning  of  his  wrath  from  destroying  the  rebels  when  they  thus 
laid  hands  upon  his  Holy  One!  For  in  those  cords  which 
bound  the  limbs  of  Jesus,  were  hidden  the  fetters  which  would 
have  forever  bound  sinners  in  hell. 

The  officers  have  done  their  task.  The  whole  assembly 
then  breaks  up,  in  order,  contrary  to  custom  and  etiquette,  per- 
sonally to  bring  the  accused  before  the  governor,  and  by  their 
appearing  in  a  body,  to  force  from  him  the  confirmation  of  their 
Iwitence  of  death.  Herein  was  fulfilled  the  Saviour's  prediction, 
that  he  should  be  delivered  unto  the  Gentiles.  This  feature  in 
the  proceedings  belonged  to  that  which  was  symbolical  in  the 
history  of  his  passion.  The  whole  world  was  to  have  occasion, 
in  its  representatives,  to  manifest  its  real  position  with  reference 
to  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and  its  participation  in  the  guilt,  and 
the  need  of  redemption.  As  regards  sin  and  the  curse,  we  have 
all  fellowship  with  Israel ;  as  well  as  in  the  vocation  of  grace. 

He  whom  we  have  seen  proceeding  bound  to  the  second  court 
of  justice,  sits  now,  having  long  since  accomplished  his  work,  at 
the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high,  as  keeper  of  the  heavenly 
blessings  which  he  purchased  for  us.  Let  us  bow,  in  humble 
adoration,  before  him,  and  not  let  him  go  till  he  has  granted 
us  all  the  blessed  results  of  his  passion.  Let  us  beware  of  again 
binding  his  hands  by  our  unbelief,  and  be  cautious  lest  by  our 
improper  conduct,  we  should  again  deliver  him  up  to  the  baptized 
and  unbaptized  heathen.  Eatlier  let  us  bind  him  to  us  by  the 
cords  of  grateful  love,  and  by  a  joyful  confession  of  him,  re- 
commend him  to  those  who  are  still  ignorant  of  him.  Let  us 
bring  our  peaceful  disposition,  holiness  of  life,  and  fidelity  in  his 
service,  as  witnesses  which  justify  him  before  the  world,  and 
learn  to  devote  ourselves  unceasingly  to  him  who  loved  us  and 
gave  himself  for  us. 


XXV. 

THE    END    OF  THE    TRAITOR. 

My  readers  are  aware  how  much  depended  upon  our  High  Priest 
accomplishing  the  work  of  atonement  in  the  robes  of  purity.  If  a 
blemish  was  found  in  the  lamb,  it  was  deemed  unfit  for  sacrifice. 
"  Such  a  High  Priest  became  us,"  saith  the  Scripture,  "  who  is 
holy,  harmless,  undenled,  and  separate  from  sinners."  And 
such  a  one  do  we  possess.  The  moral  capability  of  Immanuel 
for  his  mediatorial  work  is  unquestionable.  Grod  has  spared 
nothing,  in  order  to  dispel  every  doubt  on  this  subject.  To  this 
end,  he  gave  up  the  Surety  to  the  scrutiny  of  the  acutest  inves- 
tigators in  the  world.  But  to  their  no  small  vexation,  they  tried 
in  vain  to  find  a  single  spot  in  him,  and  are  compelled,  either  in 
plain  words  or  by  their  conduct,  to  testify  concerning  him,  "  We 
find  no  fault  in  this  man." 

It  was  of  great  importance  that  the  Argus  eyes  of  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees  discovered .  nothing  culpable  in  him.  But  it  adds 
much  to  the  weight  of  this  fact,  that  nothing  of  the  kind  could 
be  traced  in  the  Lord  Jesus  by  the  man  whom  we  shall  now  see 
descending  into  the  pit.  It  was  of  much  greater  importance  to 
him  than  to  them,  to  be  able  to  convict  the  Lord  of  a  single  sin, 
since  he  could  not,  like  those  men,  whose  consciences  were 
asleep,  aid  himself  by  the  invention  of  a  fictitious  culpability,  if 
he  found  no  real  guilt  in  him.  Had  he  been  desirous  of  having 
recourse  to  such  means,  the  judge  in  his  breast  would  have 
scoffed  at  such  an  artifice,  like  the  leviathan  at  the  quivering 
lance.  Could  Judas  have  been*  able  to  say  to  himself,  even  with 
a  shadow  of  truth,  "  He  whom  I  am  betraying,  deserves  being 
delivered  into  the  hands  of  justice,"  what  would  he  not  have 
given  ?  He  was  compelled  ardently  to  wish,  for  the  sake  of  his 
peace  of  mind  and  his  present  and  eternal  salvation,  that  he 
might  discover  Jesus  to  be  in  some  respects  a  transgressor. 
A  single  sin  found  out  in  Jesus  would  have  been  a  great  comfort 


THE   EXD    OF    THE   TEAITOE.  211 

and  a  sweet  solace  to  him  in  the  torment  which  he  felt  within. 
But  however  diligently  he  sought,  however  much  he  exerted  his 
ingenuity,  and  recalled  to  mind  all  the  acts  of  his  Master's  life, 
virtues  presented  themselves  in  abundance,  a  luminous  sea  of 
holiness  shone  upon  him  from  it ;  but  not  one  dark  point  could 
-cover,  nor  did  the  slightest  spot  meet  his  scrutinizing  eye. 
How  annihilating  the  result!  Judas  is  compelled  to  justify  his 
conscience,  which  accuses  him  as  being  the  betrayer  of  the  Holy 
One,  and  condemns  him  as  the  murderer  of  innocence.  He  finds 
nothing  to  assist  him  in  weakening  the  sentence,  and  is  forced 
to  endure  the  most  horrible  curse  that  ever  made  a  human  soul 
to  tremble. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Judas  sought  for  sin  in  Jesus  in  order 
to  derive  from  it  some  alleviation  to  his  agonized  spirit,  while 
he  shrunk  back  from  Jesus's  holiness.  Had  the  light  of  the 
Gospel  shone  upon  him,  he  would,  on  the  contrary,  have  rejoiced 
at  the  spotlessness  of  Jesus,  and  would  have  shuddered  and 
trembled  at  being  able  to  discover  the  smallest  blemish  in  him. 
It  is  strange,  however,  that  we  again  make  common  cause  with 
Judas,  though  in  a  different  sense,  since  we  seek  sin  in  Jesus  to 
pacify  our  consciences.  And  we  really  find  it,  but  only  as 
attaching  to  him  in  the  way  of  imputation  and  transfer ;  and 
this  enables  us  to  go  on  our  way  in  peace. 

Judas  finds  himself  in  a  dreadful  condition.  Consoling  him- 
self with  the  wonder-working  power  of  Jesus  as  a  cloak  for  his 
wickedness,  and  holding  up  to  his  awakening  conscience  the  de- 
lusive idea  that  his  Master  needed  only  to  exert  -his  will,  in 
case  of  necessity,  in  order  to  escape  from  the  hands  of  his  ene- 
mies;  when  he  saw  his  Master  actually  condemned,  and  dragged 
bound  and  escorted  by  the  whole  Sanhedrim  to  the  residence  of 
the  governor,  the  last  anchor  breaks  which  had  hitherto  held  the 
man  secure  against  the  storm  of  despair.  The  incorruptible  judge 
in  his  breast  has  now  free  scope  for  his  accusations,  and  thunders 
in  his  ears,  "  Thy  villainy  has  succeeded — thy  Master  is  going  the 
way  to  death,  and  thou  art  the  means  of  it.  On  thy  head  rests 
the  entire  guilt  of  the  bloody  end  of  this  Just  One.  Thou,  who 
didst  eat  of  his  bread,  art  the  viper  which  has  given  him  the 
deadly  bite.     It  is  a  wonder  that  the  earth  still  bears  thee,  and 


212  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

that  the  sun  shines  upon  such  a  scum  of  humanity.  Woe,  woe 
unto  thee,  traitor,  murderer,  and  accursed!"  0  the  fearful 
agony  which  takes  possession  of  his  breast  at  these  arrows  of 
conscience,  the  boundless  distress  which  falls  upon  him  like  aa 
armed  man!  0  the  horror  and  dismay  which  thrill  through 
every  nerve  and  limb !  It  seems  to  him  as  if  he  heard  the  foot- 
steps of  the  Avenger  of  blood  approaching  him;  as  if  the 
sentence  of  death  was  already  thundered  down  from  heaven 
upon  his  devoted  head ;  and  as  if  he  saw  the  naming  abyss  of 
hell  yawning  at  his  feet.  The  darkness  of  despair  weighs  heavily 
on  his  soul.  0  how  the  accursed  blood-money  sears  his  con- 
science !  How  horribly  sounds  the  silver  in  his  purse !  It 
seems  to  him  as  if  it  were  the  pay  of  Satan  and  the  wages  of 
hell  that  he  carries  about  with  him ;  nay,  as  if  he  had  bartered 
for  it  the  salvation  of  Ins  soul.  And  this  was  what  he  had 
really  done.  See  him  hurrying  along,  urged  forward  by  the 
aven  wings  of  mental  agony.  God  has  forsaken  him,  and  the 
a  wil  has  ceased  to  trouble  himself  about  the  comfort  of  his  souL 
The  pitiable  wretch  rushes  to  the  temple.  "  For  what  purpose  ? 
In  order  to  pray  ?"  No,  he  can  pray  no  longer.  He  must  rid 
himself  of  the  accursed  wages  of  sin.  He  seeks  for  the  chief 
priests  and  elders,  and  having  found  them,  he  approaches  them, 
pale  as  a  corpse,  and  filled  with  rage  and  hatred  against  these 
instruments  of  his  fall,  and  confesses  boldly  and  openly,  saying, 
"  I  have  sinned,  in  that  I  have  betrayed  innocent  blood." 

Hear  these  words,  they  are  of  great  importance.  "Why? 
Has  Judas  become  Jesus' s  friend  ?"  By  no  means ;  his  heart 
was  still  embittered  against  him.  "  Was  his  testimony  to  the 
innocence  of  Jesus  of  advantage  to  him?"  On  the  contrary, 
by  it  he  only  drew  down  upon  him  the  displeasure  of  his  supe- 
riors, and  increased  the  dreadful  nature  of  his  crime.  It  would 
have  been  to  his  advantage  to  have  reasoned  himself  into  the 
falsehood  that  Jesus  was  unworthy  of  any  other  treatment  than 
that  which  he  experienced.  How  strongly  and'  triumphantly, 
therefore,  must  the  heavenly  radiance  of  Jesus's  innocence  have 
been  reflected,  even  by  the  darkened  mirror  of  his  treacherous 
soul,  that,  in  spite  of  the  injury  just  mentioned  which  he  thereby 
occasioned  himself,  he   could  not  refrain  from  honoring  Jesus 


THE   E]SD    OP   THE   TEAITOR.  213 

by  such  a  confession !  Truly,  scarcely  ever  has  a  more  power- 
ful hymn  of  praise  to  the  holiness  of  the  Lamb  of  God  been 
heard,  than  sounds  in  our  ears  in  the  despairing  outcry  of  his 
betrayer;  and  where  has  the  innocence  of  Jesus  been  more 
powerfully  attested,  than  by  the  testimony  which  the  unhappy 
murderer  is  compelled  by  conscience  to  give  against  himself? 
Thus,  the  Lord  Jesus,  as  already  observed,  celebrated  a  brilliant 
triumph  in  the  midst  of  the  deepest  gloom  of  his  humiliation. 
He  triumphs  as  One  whom  no  one  could  convince  of  sin — as  the 
Lamb  without  spot — as  the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  We  congratu- 
late ourselves  on  this  new  confirmation  of  the  truth,  that  there 
is  no  blemish  in  our  righteousness ;  for  the  righteousness  of  the 
Surety  is  the  righteousness  of  his  people.  ,  Those  who  praise  the 
glorified  Head,  praise  us  also,  who  are  his  members.  Even  the 
enemies  of  Christ,  who  deny  his  divinity,  but  enthusiastically 
honor  him  as  the  model  of  every  virtue,  are  "helpers  of  our 
joy."  Their  laudatory  effusions  in  reality  praise  our  excellence 
They  refuse,  indeed,  to  hear  of  this;  but  when  at  length  God 
shall  take  us  to  his  arms  before  the  whole  world,  and  present  us 
with  the  inheritance  of  Ins  Son,  they  will  be  made  aware  that 
Immanuei's  garment  has  descended  to  us,  and  that  we  are  clothed 
with  it. 

The  Lord  celebrates  his  second  triumph  in  the  event  we  are 
about  to  contemplate,  as  the  only  salvation  which  is  prepared 
for  sinners.  Singularly  enough,  he  is  glorified  by  his  betrayer 
even  in  this  quality.  Judas  here  performs  apostolic  service — 
not  intentionally  on  his  part,  although  on  God's  part.  He 
serves  as  a  fearful  example,  how  a  man  may  undertake  every 
thing,  in  order  to  free  himself  from  sin  and  its  attendant  curse, 
and  yet  not  succeed,  as  long  as  the  Lord  Jesus  is  not  his,  and  as 
I  long  as  he  does  not  belong  to  the  Lord  Jesus. 

Behold  the  miserable  man!  The  horrible  deed  is  done,  and 
he  already  acknowledges  it  as  a  crime.  In  him  we  have  not  to 
do  with  an  entirely  hardened  villain.  He  feels  the  greatness  of 
lilt,  confesses  it,  and  bitterly  repents  of  it.  What  would  he 
give,  could  he  undo  the  wicked  deed  !  He  attempts  many  things 
for  (his  purpose,  to  which  the  moralists  of  the  present  day  would 
doubtless  also  have  advised  him.    He  hastily  returns  to  the  men 


214  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

in  whose  service  he  had  sinned,  brings  them  back  the  accursed 
bribe ;  prefers  enduring  shame,  disgrace,  and  much  more  besides, 
rather  than  let  the  blood-money  remain  in  his  hands ;  confesses 
freely  and  openly  De  impious  act  he  has  committed;  does  not 
seek  to  alleviate  it,  out  directly  says,.  "  I  have  sinned,  in  that  I 
have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood !"  and  sufficiently  shows  that 
the  abhorrence  he  displays  at  the  crime  he  has  committed  is 
earnest  and  sincere.  And  when  the  priests  refuse  to  take  back 
their  pieces  of  silver,  and  haughtily  turn  their  backs  upon  him 
with  the  cold  and  cutting  words,  "What  is  that  to  us?  See 
thou  to  that!"  he  casts  the  money  down  in  the  temple,  and 
thereby  gives  them  to  understand  that  he  destines  it  for  the 
poor,  or  other  sacred  purposes.  In  this  scene,  we  perceive 
something  dreadfully  retributive,  when  we  call  to  mind  the 
hypocritical  words,  "  Why  was  not  this  ointment  sold,  and  the 
money  given  to  the  poor?"  with  which  the  unhappy  disciple 
once  presumed  to  deprecate  Mary's  laudable  work  of  love.  He 
is  now  compelled,  although  with  other  money,  to  verify,  in  an 
awful  manner,  what  he  then  uttered  in  dissimulation. 

But  what  more  could  be  desired  than  what  the  sinner  did 
here  ?  Here  was  self-condemnation,  resolutions  of  amendment, 
and  even  earnest  endeavors  to  repair  the  evil  he  had  done. 
And  yet  of  what  use  was  it  all?  Sin  remained;  heaven  con- 
tinued closed  against  him ;  the  heart  of  the  Eternal  Judge  was 
turned  from  him,  and  Satan's  chain  was  unbroken.  The 
trembling  of  the  wretched  man  is  in  vain,  as  well  as  his  re- 
pentance, confession,  and  his  moral  resolutions  and  vows.  All 
this  was  insufficient  to  purge  him  from  his  sin.  All  these 
laudable  acts  do  not  procure  him  mercy.  Judas  perishes 
horribly.  "  Why  ?  Is  it  because  his  sins  exceeded  the  measure 
of  divine  forgiveness  ?"  0,  not  so  !  "  Is  it  because  he  was  a 
thief  and  a  cheat  ?"  Such  was  the  thief  on  the  cross  in  a  much 
higher  degree,  yet  he  found  the  way  to  Paradise.  "Is  it 
because  he  betrayed  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  ?"  Thousands  did 
the  same,  and  yet  were  saved.  "  Was  it  because  he  laid  hands 
on  himself?"  I  tell  you,  that  even  if  he  had  not  done  this,  but 
had  lived  for  years  together,  and  spent  them  in  serious  attempts 
at  amendment,  he  would  still  have  perished,  for  this  one  single 


THE  END    OF   THE   TRAITOR.  215 

reason — that  Jesus  was  not  on  his  side  nor  atoned  for  him  by 
his  blood.  Thus  the  perdition  of  Judas  must  serve,  like  no 
other  event,  to  show,  in  striking  colors,  how  impossible  it  is 
to  do  without  Jesus ;  and  the  latter  triumphs  in  this,  as  in 
almost  nothing  else,  as  the  only  and  exclusive  Saviour  of 
sinners. 

Nothing  can  avail  or  save,  if  Jesus  is  not  ours.  If  you,  my 
readers,  had  any  commensurate  idea,  how  much  you  need  him, 
you  would  throw  open  every  avenue  to  admit  him.  Gladly 
would  you  divest  yourselves  of  that  which  is  the  dearest  and 
most  precious  to  you,  in  order  that  you  might  possess  him. 
Nay,  you  would  risk  your  very  lives,  much  more  the  vain 
delights  and  empty  honors  of  this  world,  in  order  to  gain  him. 
There  exists  no  compensation  for  the  want  of  Jesus  and  the 
cleansing  efficacy  of  his  blood.  The  most  specious  tissue  of 
austerities,  morality,  and  devotional  exercises,  can  not  supply  his 
place.  It  is  only  a  more  handsome  dress  for  a  delinquent,  and 
not  the  wedding  garment  for  the  invited  guest. 

Jesus  alone  enables  us  to  obtain  mercy,  and  to  reach  heaven. 
If  he  be  not  gracious  to  thee,  it  is  in  vain  for  thee  to  rise  early 
and  to  sit  up  late,  in  order  by  such  means  to  work  out  thy  salva- 
tion. Thou  laborest  and  accomplishest  nothing;  thou  gatherest 
and  puttest  it  into  a  bag  with  holes,  thou  weavest  spider's  webs, 
which  are  unfit  for  clothing.  Thou  pourest  into  a  vessel,  the 
bottom  of  which  is  knocked  out,  and  condemnest  thyself  to  roll 
a  stone  up  a  hill,  which,  just  as  thou  thinkest  to  reach  the  sum- 
mit, again  escapes  thee,  and  rolls  down,  unimpeded,  into  the 
abyss  below.  But  if  Jesus  is  thine,  thou  hast  already  gained 
thy  cause;  fruits  of  peace  fall  into  thy  lap  from  a  tree,  which 
is  not  of  thy  planting;  thou  canst  boast  of  thy  Saviour's 
righteousness,  while  thou  art  still  striving  against  sin;  and  art 
reconciled  unto  God,  without  an  atonement  being  required  at 
thy  hand.  Why  then  dost  thou  delay  to  embrace  him,  an.d 
make  him  thy  all  in  all?  Say  with  the  apostle,  "The  life 
which  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of 
God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me;"  and  when 
these  words  are  verified  in  thee,  thou  art  safe  to  all  eternity. 

Judas  is  exhibited  to  us  in  the   history   of  the   Passion,   in 


216  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

order  that  sin,  with  all  its  horrors,  may  appear  in  the  full 
blaze  of  day,  and  that  redemption  may  appear  in  all  its 
splendor,  and  Jesus  be  visibly  glorified,  not  only  as  the  Holy 
One,  and  the  only  way  of  salvation,  but  also  as  the  Saviour  of 
mankind.  If  ever  the'  dreadful  nature  of  sin  was  manifested  in 
any  one,  it  was  so  in  the  traitor.  Here,  it  first  of  all,  presents 
to  us  its  entire  hatefulness  and  darkness,  which  appears  only  the 
more  striking  when  contrasted  with  the  heavenly  light,  which 
beams  forth  from  the  person  of  Christ.  Here  it  makes  itself 
known  as  the  great  deceiver,  which  promises  its  servants  mount- 
ains of  gold,  but  rewards  them  with  horror  and  terror.  Here 
it  comes  forward  as  an  emanation  from  hell,  whose  fruit  brings 
death,  and  which  has  never  borne  any  other  children  than  fear, 
despair,  and  condemnation.  Here  it  reveals  itself  as  the  worst 
enemy  of  our  race,  which  cuts  asunder  the  bonds  that  connected 
us  with  God,  inflames  the  wrath  of  the  Almighty  against  us, 
opens  to  us  the  gates  of .  the  eternal  desert,  and  establishes  a 
gulf  between  us  and  the  heavenly  city  of  God,  over  which  no 
bridge  can  be  thrown.  Besides,  it  is  here  manifestly  shown 
how  it  scoffs  at  every  human  attempt  to  extract  its  sting ;  how 
no  penitence  can  banish  it,  no  tears  wash  it  away,  and  no  good 
resolutions  annihilate  it;  but  it  obstinately  remains  in  defiance 
of  all  this ;  hands  over  its  subjects  to  Satan,  and  after  embitter- 
ing their  life  on  this  side  the  grave,  transfers  them  finally 
to  an  eternal  night  of  death,  and  gives  them  up  to  endless  per- 
dition. 

Look  at  the  traitor  in  his  state  of  despair,  and  behold  how 
sin  sits  upon  his  shoulders,  like  a  hideous  specter!  See  how 
he  shades  himself  and  plunges  under  his  burden,  but  the  monster 
refuses  to  leave  him.  Observe  how  he  hurries  along,  restless 
and  fugitive,  but  the  specter  accompanies  him  and  becomes  in- 
creasingly frightful  as  he  proceeds.  He  expects  to  get  rid  of 
his  horrible  burden  by  returning  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver ;  but 
in  vain  are  the  attempts  to  settle  accounts  with  sin  at  such  a 
rate.  Judas  has  recourse  to  the  chief  priest  and  elders,  but 
they  know  of  no  remedy  against  sin.  Driven  at  length  to 
desperation,  he  casts  himself  into  the  arms  of  death;  but  even 
the  latter  does  not  relieve  the  soul  from  the  fiend.    Judas  may 


THE   END    OF   THE   TRAITOR.  217 

divest  himself  of  his  body,  but  he  does  not  thereby  lay  aside  his 
guilt.  He  may  part  with  his  life ;  but  sin  does  not,  on  this 
account,  depart  from  him.  He  can  leave  the  world,  but  his 
impious  act  follows  him  across  its  boundaries.  He  may  strangle 
himself,  but  his  iniquity  is  not  destroyed  by  so  doing:  on  the 
contrary,  greater  scope  is  thus  afforded  it  to  unfold  its  whole 
power  and  dominion.  It  does  not  prevent  his  body  from 
bursting  asunder,  but  carries  away  the  soul  with  it  to  everlasting 
fire.  Approach  the  grave  of  Judas.  No  angels  are  watching 
there,  nor  does  the  guardian  eye  of  God  stand  open  over  it.  No 
rose  of  hope  blooms  on  its  grassy  mound.  Night-shade  and 
thistle  alone  vegetate  there.  And  what  is  the  inscription  on  his 
tombstone?  It  is  short  and  horrifying — "And  Judas  went  to 
his  place" — and  indicates  in  an  awful  manner  how  far  the  desolat- 
ing, destructive,  and  fatal  power  of  sin  extends. 

Wht  was  there  that  was  able  to  cope  with  this  monster  ?  He, 
who  is  being  dragged  yonder  in  chains  before  the  judgment-seat 
of  a  heathen,  and  at  the  sight  of  whom,  Judas  despairs,  in- 
stead of  breaking  out  into  exclamations  of  joy — he  it  is  who 
enters  the  lists  against  it.  Christ,  by  imputation,  was  the  Lamb 
which  took  upon  himself  the  sin  of  the  world,  in  order  by  the 
representative  endurance  of  the  curse  due  to  it,  he  might  deprive 
it  of  its  sting,  in  behalf  of  all  those,  who  should  believe  on  him. 
He  has  done  so;  and  when  we  asserted  that  he  triumphed 
in  the  event  under  consideration  as  a  Saviour,  we  meant  to  say, 
first,  that  the  redemption  accomplished  by  him,  appears  in  such 
adorable  splendor,  because  the  monster  sin  here  reveals  more 
variously  than  elsewhere,  its  real  nature,  and  exhibits  its 
horrors  in  broad  daylight.  But  Christ  is  also  glorified  here  as 
the  Saviour,  since  every  one  must  feel  convinced  that  the  son  of 
perdition  surfers  shipwreck  here  solely  because  he  disdains  to 
cast  himself  patiently  and  believingly  into  the  arms  of  him 
whom  he  has  betrayed.  However  dreadful  the  storm,  which 
siuks  the  whole  fleet  of  human  aid — a  barque  still  remained,  in 
which  he  might  have  taken  refuge.  Had  he  done  so,  it  would 
havi-  infalliby  brought  him  safely  into  the  haven  of  eternal 
peace.  "But  why  did  he  not  ascend  its  sides?"  Partly  be- 
cause he  was  still  too  proud  to  honor  him,  by  suing  for  his 

10 


218  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

mercy,  who  had  torn  away  his  hypocritical  mask,  and  against 
whom  his  soul  was  still  deeply  embittered.  Partly,  also,  because 
he  had  given  way  to  despair;  for  Satan  did  not  cease,  as  a 
reward  for  the  services  which  Judas  had  rendered  him,  to 
suggest  to  him  that  there  was  no  longer  any  hope  for  him.  In 
addition  to  which,  by  filling  his  imagination  with  all  kinds  of 
infernal  imagery,  he  deprived  him  of  the  power  of  calm  and 
lucid  reflection.  Could  Judas  have  summoned  up  sufficient 
humility  and  courage  to  turn  his  tearful  eye  to  Jesus,,  as  did 
afterward  the  dying  thief,  he  would  have  met  only  the  look  of 
forgiving  mercy;  and  O  what  different  sounds  would  have 
saluted  his  ear,  than  the  horrifying  language  of  the  chief  priests 
and  elders,  who  said  to  him,  "  What  is  that  to  us  ?  See  thou  to 
that."  There  was  no  want  of  grace,  even  for  a  man  in  his 
desperate  condition;  and  although  his  sin  was  "red  like 
crimson,"  yet  the  blood  of  atonement  would  have  sufficed  to 
wash  it  white  as  snow.  But  the  devil  carried  him  away  in 
the  whirlwind,  like  the  vulture  the  lamb  it  has  seized  upon ;  nor 
did  he  rest  till  he  had  completed  his  triumph  over  him,  and  had 
gotten  secure  possession  of  the  soul  of  him,  who  had  thus  become 
his  rare  booty. 

The  world  has  never  beheld  a  more  tragic  spectacle  than  the 
one  we  are  now  contemplating.  One  who  was  ordained  and 
fitted  to  become  a  distinguished  vessel  of  salvation  and  bli 
to  mankind,  gives  himself  up  to  despair  in  the  presence  of  the 
world's  deliverer,  and  plunges  into  the  gulf  of  eternal  perdition, 
instead  of  laying  hold  of  the  hand  extended  for  his  rescue,  under 
the  unhappy  delusion  that,  by  so  doing,  he  should  experience 
deliverance  from  the  agony  of  his  conscience.  It  would  seem  as 
if  even  death  and  hell  disowned  this  son  of  perdition,  just  as  the 
world  had  previously  done  in  the  person  of  the  chief  priests  and 
elders,  and  were  compelled,  with  God,  to  execute  judgment 
upon  him.  The  rope  with  which  the  miserable  man  had  hung 
himself  snaps  asunder.  The  tree  which  he  had  selected  as  the 
instrument  of  his  .death,  shakes  him  off  again  with  horror.  The 
strangled  wretch  falls  down,  bursts  asunder,  and  Ins  bowels, 
gushing  out,  lie  scattered  on  the  ground. 

While  these  horrible  things  are  enacting,  the  chief  priests  and 


THE   END    OF   THE   TRAITOR.  219 

-  are  consulting  together,  what  should  be  dcite  with  the 
thirty  pieces  of  Silver,  wluch  Judas,  in  his  state  of  desperation, 
had  thrown  back  again.  "It  is  not  lawful,"  say  the  hypocrites, 
unconsciously  stigmatizing  themselves,  "  to  put  them  into  the 
treasury,  for  it  is  the  price  of  blood."  They  say  right;  for  ac- 
cording to  Deut.  xxiii.  18,  the  treasury  of  the  Lord  was  not  to 
be  defiled  by  blood-money,  or  the  price  of  a  dog.  But  how  well 
do  the  words  of  our  Lord  in  Matt,  xxiii.  23,  apply  to  these 
whited  sepulchers,  "  Woe  unto*  you  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hy- 
pocrites !  for  ye  pay  tithe  of  mint,  and  anise,  and  cummin, 
and  have  omitted  Jhe  weightier  matters  of  the  law — -judgment, 
mercy,  and  faith.  Ye  blind  guides,  who  strain  at  a  gnat,  and 
swallow  a  camel !"  Were  not  these  men  equally  guilty  of  the 
heinous  crime  with  the  traitor  himself,  to  whom  they  had  paid 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  ?  And  though  they  were  in  equal  con- 
demnation with  him,  yet  they  assume  to  themselves  not  only*the 
place  of  his  judges,  but  with  a  haughty  mien,  contrast  themselves 
with  him  as  keepers  of  the  law  and  the  holy  places.  Who 
does  not  feel  almost  more  sympathy  with  the  despairing  disciple 
than  with  these  proficients  in  falsehood  and  dissimulation  ? 
Who  can  say  that  it  may  not  be  more  tolerable  in  the  day  of 
judgment  for  the  former,  than  for  these  arrogant  and  heartless 
hypocrites ! 

They  agree  together  to  purchase,  with  the  wages  of  iniquity, 
the  potter's  field — a  piece  of  ground  belonging  to  a  potter ;  and 
destifte  it  for  the  burial-place  of  those  pilgrims  who  might  die 
in  Jerusalem  without  having  any  tomb  or  place  of  sepulture  of 
their  own.  Thus,  even  the  money,  for  which  our  Lord  was 
gartered,  must  be  productive  of  good.  And  is  there  not  in  this 
transaction,  a  distant  hint  that  Christ  yielded  up  himself,  that 
we,  poor  pilgrims  in  the  vale  of  death,  might  rest  in  peace? 
The  purchased  field  was  thenceforward  known  by  the  semi- 
Syrian  name  of  "Aceldama,"  or  "the  field  of  blood."  A 
melancholy  monument  was  thus  erected  to  the  lost  disciple  and 
me;  which  still  speaks  to  the  traveler  and  says,  "There  is 
no  more  offering  for  sin  unto  him,  who  treads  under  foot  the  blood 
of  the  Son  of  God." 

The   evangelist,   after  narrating  the  purchase    we    have    juet 


220  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

been  considering,  observes,  that  "  Then  was  fulfilled,  that  which 
was  spoken  by  Jeremy  the  prophet,  saying,  "And  they  took 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  the  price  of  him  that  was  valued, 
whom  they  of  the  children  of  Israel  did  value,  and  gave  them 
for  the  potter's  field,  as  the  Lord  appointed  me."  Matthew 
combines  here,  as  respects  their  chief  import,  two  prophetic 
passages ;  the  first  of  which  belongs  to  Jeremiah,  but  the  other 
to  Zechariah,  whose  name  is  not  mentioned.  We  read  the 
words  of  Jeremiah,  in  chap.  xix.  11-13  as  follows :  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  even  so  will  I  break  this  people  and 
this  city,  as  one  breaketh  a  potter's  vessel,  tha^t  can  not  be  made 
whole  again,  and  they  shall  bury  them  in  Tophet,  till  there  shall 
be  no  place  to  bury.  Thus  will  I  do  unto  this  place,  saith  the 
Lord,  and  to  the  inhabitants  thereof,  and  even  make  this  city  as 
Tophet.  And  the  houses  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  houses  of  the 
kings  of  Judah  shall  be  defiled,  as  the  place  of  Tophet,  because 
of  all  the  houses,  on  whose  roofs  they  have  burned  incense  to  all 
the  host  of  heaven,  and  have  poured  out  drink-offerings  unto 
other  gods."  The  words  of  Zechariah  we  find  in  the  eleventh 
chapter  of  his  prophecies,  where  we  read  in  verse  13,  "  And  the 
Lord  said  unto  me,  '  Cast  it  unto  the  potter ;  a  goodly  price  that 
I  was  prized  at  of  them.'  And  I  took  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver, 
and  cast  them  to  the  potter,  in  the  house  of  the  Lord." 

Let  us  endeavor,  first,  to  penetrate  to  the  bottom  of  the 
words  of  Jeremiah.  The  prophet  announces  heavy  judgments 
upon  the  people  of  Israel  and  the  city  of  Jerusalem ;  and  ac- 
cording to  divine  direction,  he  had  taken  his  stand  near  the  tile 
— or  potter's  gate,  at  the  place  called  Tophet,  which  belongs  to 
the  valley  of  Benhinnom,  and  is  the  same  where  the  Israelites, 
in  the  days  of  dreadful  apostasy,  had  sacrificed  their  children  to 
the  idol  Moloch.  In  the  presence  of  the  priests  and  elders, 
accompanied  by  whom  he  had  gone  out  by  divine  command,  he 
takes  an  earthen  vessel,  which  he  had  brought  with  him,  and 
dashes  it  in  pieces  on  the  ground,  accompanying  this  symbolical 
act  with  the  prediction  that  thus  should  the  city  and  people  be 
broken,  and  that  the  latter  would  be  buried  in  the  defiled  and 
accursed  Tophet,  from  want  of  room  to  inter  the  corpses,  and 
the  city  itself  should  be  as  Tophet,  and  its  houses  unclean. 


THE   END    OF   THE   TRAITOR.  221 

Tophet,  where  once  the  image  of  Moloch  stood,  was,  at  the 
same  time,  the  piece  of  ground  where  the  potters  of  Jerusalem 
procured  the  clay  for  their  handicraft.  When  the  prophet  brake 
in  pieces  the  earthen  vessel  in  this  very  place,  and  thus  changed 
it  into  its  original  material,  he  very  significantly  and  affectingly 
point fd  out  the  fate  which  would,  in  like  manner,  befall  the 
holy  city  and  the  chosen  race.  This  Tophet  was  the  potter's 
field,  which,  as  stated  above,  was  bought  by  the  elders  for  thirty 
of  silver.  But  when  Matthew  says,  "  Then  was  fulfilled 
that  which  was  spoken  by  Jeremy  the  prophet,"  the  meaning  of 
pie  Holy  Spirit,  who. guided  the  evangelist's  pen,  is  this — "See- 
ing that  God  so  ordered  it  that  the  elders*  of  Israel  purchased 
with  the  wages  of  iniquity,  the  field  on  which  the  curse  of 
Jeremiah  rested,  thus  making  it  the  property  of  the  Jewish 
state,  and  by  so  doing,  transferred,  as  it  were,  that  curse  to 
themselves  and  the  people :  thus  testifying,  and  again  symboli- 
cally, that  the  visitation,  then  threatened,  would  break  in,  a 
second  time,  upon  Israel  in  so  much  the  more  dreadful  form,  the 
more  grievous  the  murder  of  the  Son  of  God  himself  was  than  the 
service  of  Moloch,  and  the  abominations  connected  with  it.  It 
was  not  therefore  the  purchase  of  the  field  itself,  but  rather  the 
symbolic  appropriation,  by  it,  of  the  divine  curse  upon  Tophet, 
which  received  its  final  accomplishment  in  the  destruction  of 
Jerusalem  by  the  Komans,  that  is  here  described  as  the  fulfill- 
ment of  Jeremiah's  prophecy. 

The  passage  from  Zechariah  serves  only  to  enlarge  the  mean- 
ing of  Jeremiah's  prediction.  The  latter  being,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  evangelist,  the  more  important  of  the  two,  he  does  not 
even  mention  the  name  of  the  former.  Jeremiah  points  out  the 
piece  of  ground  purchased;  Zechariah  the  price*  which  the 
Jewish  authorities  paid  for  it.  Let  us  look  a  little  more  closely 
at  the  words  of  the  latter.  The  Lord  is  there  speaking  to  his 
ungrateful  people,  and  represents  himself  as  their  Shepherd,  who 
had  tended  them  at  one  time  with  the  staff  "Beauty"  (gentle- 
; i nd  at  another,  with  the  staff  "Bands"  (severity).  But 
they  had  disregarded  his  pastoral  care,  and  had  continually 
strayed  from  his  paths,  and  despised  his  under-shepherds,  the 
prophet?,  and   among  them,  Zechariah  himself,  who   complains 


222  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

that  he,  and  in  him  the  Lord  who  sent  him,  was  no  more  valued 
by  them  than  the  meanest  slave ;  thirty  pieces  of  silver  being 
the  price  at  which  they  estimated  him.  Jehovah  threatens  them 
with  his  judgments  in  consequence  of  this  impious  conduct. 
"  Cast  it  unto  the  potter" — that  is,  throw  it,  as  the  wages  of  sin, 
into  the  mire  of  that  accursed  field,  where  the  potter  carries  on 
his  work — the  field  of  Tophet.  And  then  the  Lord  adds,  in 
sacred  irony,  "  A  goodly  price,  that  I  was  prized  at  of  them," 
"  and  I,"  continues  the  prophet,  now  speaking  in  his  own  person, 
u  took  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  and  cast  them  to  the  potter,  in 
the  house  of  the  Lord."  Thus  the  temple  was  treated,  by  divine 
command,  as  if  it  were  the  field  of  Tophet  itself;  a  dreadful 
emblematical  prediction  of  the  fact  that  even  the  temple,  in 
process  of  time,  should  crumble  into  dust  under  the  curse  of 
God. 

The  hour  of  the  threatened  judgment  was  at  hand,  when  he, 
who  was  the  perfection  of  God's  pastoral  faithfulness,  was  valued, 
on  the  part  of  Israel,  at  the  trifling  price  of  thirty  pieces  of 
silver.  For  this  small  sum,  Judas,  as  representing  his  nation, 
disposed  of  his  part  in  the  Saviour,  and  the  children  of  Israel, 
by  their  rulers,  bargained  for  the  Holy  One  to  slay  him.  But 
by  the  fact  of  the  traitor,  in  despair,  hurling  the  murderer's 
reward  from  him,  and  casting  it  down  in  the  temple,  the  blood- 
money  (a  bad  omen)  was  returned  to  the  congregation  of  Israel 
This  act,  which  was  not  without  divine  intervention,  called 
fearfully  and  significantly  to  mind  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver 
mentioned  by  Zechariah,  and  could  only  be  explained  to  mean 
that  the  Almighty  now  renewed,  more  impressively  than  before, 
the  threatening  he  had  pronounced  against  Jerusalem  and  its 
sanctuary,  in  the  symbolical  act  of  his  prophet.  And  the 
circumstance  that  the  Jewish  rulers  hit  upon  the  idea  of 
purchasing  the  accursed  spot,  called  Tophet,  with  the  wages 
of  iniquity,  completely  impresses  the  seal  of  truth  on  that 
explanation. 

Hence  it  is  evident  that  the  spirit  of  prophecy  both  uttered 
and  apprehended  the  words  of  Zechariah  and  Jeremiah  with  a 
conscious  reference  to  the  event  which  occurred  in  Jerusalem 
after  the  lapse  of  centuries ;  and  that  God  permitted  the  trans- 


THE   EXD    OF   TIIE  TRAITOR.  223 

action  between  Judas  and  the  rulers  of  Israel  to  assume,  in  so 
striking  a  manner,  a  form  corresponding  with  those  ancient 
prophetic  sayings,  only  because  he  would  give  the  ungrateful 
flock  of  his  people,  a  new  and  tangible  sign  that  the  time  of 
maturity  for  destruction,  and  the  long  announced  and  terrible 
judgments  of  his  hand  had  now  arrived.  Matthew  therefore 
says,  with  perfect  justice,  "  Then  was  fulfilled,  that  which  was 
spoken  by  Jeremy  the  prophet"  Actual  predictions  found  their 
final  accomplishment.  Even  as  the  Holy  Spirit  had  distinctly 
pointed,  in  Zechariah,  to  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver — so  in 
Jeremiah,  he  had  pointed  to  the  purchase  of  the  potter's  field  by 
the  priests  and  elders.  The  accusation  of  a  merely  arbitrary 
and  allegorical  application  of  Old  Testament  sayings  and  events 
to  New  Testament  occurrences,  nowhere  applies  to  the  evangelists 
and  apostles. 

Deeply  affected,  we  take  our  leave  of  the  most  horrible 
passage  in  the  whole  history  of  the  passion  of  our  Lord.  How 
near  we  may  be  to  him,  and  yet  become  the  prey  of  Satan,  if 
we  do  not  carefully  watch  over  our  hearts !  How  many  gifts 
and  favors  we  may  have  received  from  him,  and  yet  may  suffer 
the  most  dreadful  loss  of  them  by  an  unfaithful  use  of  theml 
Let  him  who  gives  himself  to  Christ,  do  so  without  reserve ; 
and  whoever  is  desirous  of  holding  communion  with  him,  let 
him  always  walk  before  him  without  disguise.  Let  him  who  is 
overtaken  by  a  fault  seek  the  throne  of  grace  without  delay; 
and  he  that  is  conscious  of  being  under  the  dominion  of  a  single 
sin,  let  •  him  not  cease  to  watch  and  pray,  until  its  power  is 
broken  by  the  mercy  of  him  who  bruised  the  serpent's  head. 
The  germ  from  which  a  Judas  may  spring,  when  fructified  by 
hell,  lies  concealed  in  all  of  us.  Let  us  therefore  make  room  for 
the  Holy  Spirit  in  our  hearts,  that  he  may  destroy  it,  and  make 
all  v>  ithin  us  new ! 


XXVI. 
CHRIST    BEFORE    PILATE. 

The  day  has  just  dawned — the  most  momentous,  decisive,  and 
eventful  in  the  world.  It  greets  our  Lord  with  dreadful 
insignia.  It  approaches  in  a  blood-stained  robe,  a  crown  of 
thorns  to  encircle  his  brow,"  in  the  one  hand,  and  in  the  other, 
the  scourge,  the  fatal  cup,  and  the  accursed  tree;  while  it 
rises  upon  us  with  the  olive-branch  of  peace,  the  divine  acquit- 
tal, and  the  crown  of  life.  0  sacred  Friday,  day  of  divine 
compassion,  birth-day  of  our  eternal  redemption,  we  bless  thee, 
we  greet  thee  on  our  knees ! 

We  find  the  holy  city  in  unwonted  commotion.  Masses  of 
men  move  along  the  streets.  A  spectacle  like  that  which  now 
presents  itself,  had  never  before  been  witnessed.  The  whole 
Sanhedrim  has  risen  up  to  conduct  a  delinquent,  whom  they 
have  condemned  to  death,  in  solemn  procession  to  the  Eoman 
authorities,  in  order  to  wrest  from  the  latter  the  confirmation  of 
their  sentence.  And  who  is  it  they  are  dragging  thither  ?  The 
very  man  who  was  recently  received,  in  the  same  city,  by  the 
same  crowd  of  people,  with  loud  hosannas,  and  was  exalted 
and  celebrated  as  no  one  had  been  before.  It  is  Jesus ^  of 
Nazareth,  respecting  whom  they  cried  exultingly,  "Blessed  is 
he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord !"  and  of  whom,  even 
his  enemies  could  not  refrain  from  testifying  that  a  great 
prophet  had  arisen  among  them.  He  now  meets  us  as  the 
offscouring  and  refuse  of  the  same  people,  who  shortly  before 
strewed  palms  and  wreathed  chaplets  for  him !  Such  is  the 
world's  favor,  and  so  little  truth  is  there  in  the  saying,  "  The 
voice  of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God." 

The  procession  moves  on  to  the  palace  of  Herod.  For  it  was 
there  that  the  governor  usually  resided,  when  his  duties  called 
him  to  Jerusalem  from  Cassarea,  where  he  regularly  abode.  It 
is  well  known  that  the  Roman  emperors  committed  the  several 


CHRIST   BEFORE   PILATE.  225 

provinces,  of  which  their  extensive  dominions  were  composed, 
to  the  government  of  pro-consuls  or  viceroys.  To  these,  pro- 
curators or  governors  wero  added  for  each  province,  whose  office 
it  was  to  collect  the  revenues,  and  to  give  the  final  decision  in 
all  judicial  affairs.  In  the  smaller  districts,  the  latter  not  un- 
frvquently  exercised  the  sole  power,  as  was  the  case  in  Judea, 
which,  with  Samaria,  had  been  incorporated  into  the  province 
of  Syria.  It  was  generally  said  of  these  individuals,  that  they 
were  in  the  habit  of  making  their  influential  position  the  means 
of  promoting  their  avaricious  views;  and  hence  they  were 
characterized  as  being  unjust  and  severe.  Wherever  they 
appeared,  they  were  received  only  with  mistrust  and  secret 
bitterness  by  their  subjects ;  and  it  was  only  by  the  application 
of  military  force  that  they  succeeded  in  giving  effect  to  their 
commands,  and  in  restraining  the  people  from  revolt,  with  which 
they  were  continually  menaced. 

After  the  deposition  and  removal  of  the  Tetrarch  Archelaus, 
Pontius  Pilate,  six  years  after  the  birth  of  Christ,  was  made  the 
sixth  governor  of  Judea.  From  Luke,  iii.  1,  it  appears  that  he 
was  in  office  when  John  the  Baptist  came  preaching  in  the  wil- 
derness, and  he  therefore  spent  in  Palestine  the  whole  period  of 
our  Lord's  ministry.  For  ten  years  together  he  was  able  to 
maintain  his  position  under  the  Emperor  Tiberius,  a  fact  which 
does  honor  to  his  knowledge  of  the  art  of  governing,  since 
there  was  probably  not  a  more  difficult  post  of  the  kind  in  the 
whole  Roman  empire.  For  apart  from  his  having  to  deal  with 
the  Jews,  the  most  cunning  and  intriguing  of  all  the  nations 
around,  there  was  no  other  people  upon  earth  to  whom  the 
government  of  foreigners  was  a  greater  abomination  than  to 
them.  However  far  the  Jews  might  be  from  their  former  glory, 
they  were  still,  in  spite  of  their  degradation,  as  much  aware  as 
ever  of  their  nobility  as  the  chosen  people  of  God ;  and  thought 
themselves  called,  under  the  sanction  of  divine  promises,  which 
however  they  grossly  misunderstood,  eventually  to  bear  rule  over 
the  whole  earth;  and  yet  these  free-born  children  of  Abraham 
were  now  living  under  a  foreign  yoke,  and  that  a  heathen  one  ! 
Where  was  the  wonder,  then,  that  they  bore  it  with  stifled  rage, 
like  a  captive  Hon  in  its  iron  collar ;   and  that  he  who  exercised 

10* 


226  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

a  direct  power  over  them,  was,  from  the  first,  an  object  of  their 
bitterest  hatred ! 

It  is  equally  comprehensible  that  Pilate  also,  on  his  part, 
could  not  entertain  any  particular  liking  for  such  a  nation,  and 
gladly  made  them  feel  his  superior  authority  when  opportunity 
offered.  Nor  could  it  appear  strange  to  any  one  that  Pilate 
preferred  fixing  his  residence  at  Csesarea,  which  was  chiefly 
inhabited  by  Gentiles,  and  by  means  of  its  harbor  carried  on  an 
animated  intercourse  with  the  rest  of  the  empire,  rather  than  in 
the  metropolis  of  the  proud  and  rebellious  Hebrews.  There 
were  several  serious  revolts  in  Jerusalem  during  his  regency, 
which  could  only  be  quelled  by  calling  out  the  Roman  garrison 
quartered  in  Fort  Antonia.  But  these  repeated  suppressions  of 
the  rebellious  spirit  of  the  people  were  wont  to  be  followed  by 
stricter  measures  on  the  part  of  the  government,  which  only  em- 
bittered the  Jews  the  more.  In  other  respects  Pilate  was  not 
very  severe  or  strict;  and  when  he  sometimes  executed  sum- 
mary justice,  as  in  the  instance  recorded  in  Luke,  xiii.  1,  he  had 
probably  sufficient  cause  for  so  doing. 

"Were  we  able  to  look  into  the  hearts  of  the  Jews,  and  es- 
pecially into  those  of  their  chief  priests  and  rulers,  during  their 
procession  to  the  Koman  prsetorium,  we  should  see  in  them  a 
glowing  furnace  of  rage  and  vexation.  It  was  dreadful  to  them 
to  see  themselves  compelled  to  this  open  exhibition  of  their  sub- 
jugation to  a  foreign  yoke.  But  the  bloodthirstiness  under 
which  they  languished  for  the  extirpation  of  the  hated  Nazarene, 
this  time  outweighed  their  boundless  ambition  and  national  pride. 
Foaming  with  indignation,,  like  fettered  hyenas  raging  in  their 
chains,  they  proceed  forward  with  their  victim,  and  are  com- 
pelled, by  this  procession,  to  testify,  against  their  will,  that  the 
scepter  has  departed  from  Judah,  and  that  the  time  so  definitely 
pointed  out  by  the  dying  Jacob  for  the  appearance  of  the  Shiloh, 
to  whom  the  gathering  of  the  people  should  be,  had  now 
arrived.  Yea,  they  are  compelled  to  acknowledge  even  more 
than  this,  and  by  means  of  their  wickedness  to  place  the  necessity 
of  an  atonement  beyond  a  doubt,-  such  as  the  fettered  captive  who 
walked  at  their  head,  was  about  to  accomplish. 

It  will  doubtless  be,  in  some  measure,  the  conviction  of  every 


CHRIST   BEFORE   TILATE.  227 

one  of  my  readers  that  God  must  necessarily  have  pronounced 
an  eternal  curse  on  such  ruthless  reprobates  as  the  characters 
just  described,  if'  no  mediating  surety  interposed  to  take  their 
curse  upon  himself,  and  render  satisfaction  to  divine  justice  in 
their  stead.  To  suppose  that  the  Most  High  could  pardon  such 
sons  of  Belial,  without  any  thing  further,  would  be  to  demand  the 
overthrow  of  the  whole  moral  government  of  the  world,  and  to 
require  nothing  less  than  that  God  should  act  in  opposition  to 
himself,  and  cease  to  be  God.  Eeason  can  not  believe  in  the 
possibility  of  salvation  for  a  race  like  that  of  Adam,  irrespective 
of  an  atonement ;  and  scarcely  any  thing  in  the  world  appears 
more  rational  than  the  scriptural  doctrine  of  the  redemption  of 
sinners  by  the  mediating  intervention  of  the  Son  of  God.  I  con- 
fess that  all  that  is  within  me  would  rise  up  in  the  greatest  ex- 
citement and  astonishment,  were  I  to  behold  the  thrice  holy  God 
embracing,  without  such  an  intervention,  the  worthless  assem- 
blage at  Jerusalem  in  the  arms  of  his  love.  In  this  case,  nothing 
would  be  left  me  but  to  feel  mistaken  in  God,  or  to  disbelieve 
my  own  eyes.  But  when  I  see  in  the  midst  of  those  trans- 
gressors, the  Lamb  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world,  I 
then  see  that  God  could  open  the  gates  of  paradise  even  to  the 
most  degraded  of  that  generation  of  vipers ;  and  in  this  I  should 
perceive  nothing  either  enigmatical  or  objectionable.  The  Lamb 
is,  therefore,  the  light  in  the  economy  and  government  of  God, 
and  the  cross  the  key  to  the  deepest  mysteries  of  his  ways 
and  guidance. 

Behold  the  adorable  Prince  of  Peace  bound  like  a  criminal, 
and  covered  with  ignominy !  Who  could  be  able  to  form  a  cor- 
rect idea  of  this  spectacle,  and  yet  believe  that  divine  justice 
rules  the  world,  if  we  were  permitted  to  behold  the  Saviour  only 
in  his  own  person,  and  not  at  the  same  time  as  Mediator  and 
High  Priest!  But  now  that  we  are  aware  of  his  Suretyship, 
although  we  may  feel  deeply  affected  at  his  infinite  humiliation, 
we  are  no  longer  stnick  and  astonished.  We  can  even  bear  to 
be  told  that  the  visible  sufferings  he  endured  were  only  the  faint 
reflection  of  the  incomparably  more  horrible  torments  which  he 
secretly  suffered ;  and  that  the  host  which  surrounds  him  with 
swords  and  spears,  forms  only  a  part  of  the  escort  which  accom- 


228  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

panies  him,  since  another  part,  which  is  invisible  and  behind  the 
curtain,  is  commanded  by  Satan  himself.  For  when  Christ 
experienced  what  was  due  to  us,  we  know  that  the  latter  in- 
cluded all  these  horrors.  Nothing  more  nor  less  befell  him  than 
what  was  destined  to  be  endured  by  us  on  account  of  our  sins. 
What  an  unspeakable  gift  do  we  therefore  possess  in  the  bleed- 
ing Lamb !  "Would  too  much  honor  be  done  him  if  our  whole 
lives  were  one  continued  adoration  of  his  name ;  and  would  our 
love  exceed  its  measure  if  nothing  any  longer  sounded  sweet  or 
lovely  to  us  except  what  was  interwoven  with  his  name  ? 

They  bring  the  Lord  Jesus  to  Pilate  the  Roman  governor. 
The  Almighty  permits  circumstances  so  to  connect  themselves 
together  that  the  whole  world,  in  its  representatives,  must  par- 
ticipate in  the  condemnation  of  the  Just  One.  Hence  his  death 
becomes  the  common  crime  of  our  race,  and  every  mouth  is 
stopped  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God.  They  conduct  the 
Lord  to  Pilate ;  and  thus,  what  the  Saviour  had  before  so  dis- 
tinctly predicted,  when  announcing  his  passion,  was  literally  ful- 
filled: "Behold,"  said  he,  "we  go  up  to  Jerusalem;  and  the 
Son  of  Man  shall  be  delivered  unto  the  chief  priests  and  unto  the 
scribes,  and  they  shall  condemn  him  to  death,  and  deliver  him 
up  to  the  Gentiles."  We  now  see  the  accomplishment  of  this 
prediction.  By  so  doing  Israel  filled  up  the  measure  of  its  guilt. 
For  the  second  time  they  hand  over  their  brother  Joseph  to  the 
uncircumcised  and  to  strangers.  By  this  transfer  they  typified, 
at  the  same  time,  their  own  fate.  The  world's  salvation,  intended 
for  them  in  the  first  instance,  was  by  them  most  ungratefully 
given  up  to  the  Gentiles ;  while  they  themselves  were  thence- 
forward left  to  languish  in  darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death. 

The  procession  arrives  at  the  governor's  palace.  They  lay 
hold  of  their  prisoner,  and  rudely  push  him  into  the  open  portal 
of  the  house.  Why  do  they  act  thus?  The  narrative  informs 
us,  that  "  they  themselves  went  not  into  the  judgment  hall  lest 
they  should  be  defiled,  but  that  they  might  eat  the  passover." 
Their  idea  was  not  in  accordance  with  a  right  understanding  of 
the  divine  law ;  but  they  obeyed  the  arbitrarily  invented  ordi- 
nance of  their  Rabbis,  which  stated  that  they  exposed  them- 
selves to  defilement  by  entering  a  house,  and  especially  a  Gentile 


CHRIST   BEFORE   PILATE.  229 

one,  in  which  leaven  might  be  found.  'But  they  had  no  objec- 
tion that  their  captive  should  be  thus  denied.  They  even  pur- 
[y  push  him  into  the  house  they  deemed  unclean,  and  thus 
tangibly  and  symbolically  expel  him,  as  a  publican  and  a  sinner, 
from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel.  But  all  this  was  to  happen 
thus,  in  order  that  Christ's  character  as  the  sinner's  Surety 
might  become  increasingly  apparent,  and  every  one  perceive  in 
him  the  man  who,  by  virtue  of  a  mysterious  transfer,  had  taken 
upon  himself  every  tiling  that  was  condemnatory  in  us. 

There  is  no  feature  in  the  history  of  the  passion  which  is  de- 
void of  significance.  Throughout  there  is  a  manifestation  of 
superior  arrangement  and  divine  depth  of  purpose.  This  forcible 
urging  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  into  the  house  of  a  heathen  is 
something  horrible.  It  exhibits  a  degree  of  wickedness  worthy 
of  Beelzebub  himself.  If  the  redemption  of  the  world  had  not 
been  at  stake,  how  could  heaven  have  been  silent  or  have 
restrained  the  vials  of  God's  wrath?  But  the  salvation  of  the 
world  was  to  be  accomplished,  and  hence  it  was  that  the  Lamb 
of  God  patiently  and  silently  endured  even  the  most  unworthy 
and  disgraceful  treatment.  We  could  weep  bloody  tears  to  see 
him,  who  was  love  itself,  pushed  forward  by  the  rude  hands  of 
the  brutish  multitude.  But  we  will  not  weep  over  him,  but  over 
ourselves  and  our  race,  winch  is  capable  of  such  depravity  and 
devilishness.  Let  us  not  overlook,  however,  the  evangelical 
emblem  that  meets  our  view  even  in  this  trait  of  the  narrative. 
Christ  entered  for  us  alone,  not  only  where  apparent,  but  where 
real  and  serious  danger  menaced  us,  even  into  the  horrible  abyss 
of  the  curse  of  the  law,  the  prison  of  death,  and  the  regions  of 
darkness,  in  order  to  exhaust-  upon  his  own  sacred  person  the 
force  of  the  terrors  which  were  prepared  for  us,  and  leave  us 
nothing  but  peace,  salvation,  freedom,  and  blessing. 

But  what  shall  we  say  to  the  conduct  of  the  Jews,  who,  full  of 
the  leaven  of  all  ungodliness,  while  making  no  conscience  of 
laying  their  murderous  hands  on  the  Holy  One  of  God,  act  as  if 
they  were  too  conscientious  to -enter  the  house  of  an  impure 
heathen,  lest  they  should  come  in  contact  with  the  leaven  which 
could  not  defile  them?  What  a  striking  example  do  these 
"whited  sepulchers"  prove  of  the  truth  of  our  lord's  words, 


230  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Matt,  xxiii.  27,  and  what  a  complete  commentary  do  they  yield 
us  on  the  words  that  follow :  "Ye  blind  guides  which  strain  at 
a  gnat,  and  swallow  a  camel!"  Would  to  God  these  wretched 
people  were  the  only  ones  of  their  kind !  But  they  meet  us  in 
every  form  and  color,  even  among  those  who  call  themselves 
Christians.  Who  is  not  acquainted  with  individuals  who  scru- 
pulously abstain  from  worldly  amusements,  and  carefully  avoid 
coming  into  social  contact  with  the  worldly-minded,  who  not 
only  vie  with  the  world  in  all  the  arts  of  dissimulation,  uncharit- 
able judgment  of  others,  and  hateful  scandal,  but  even  go  beyond 
it  ?  Who  does  not  know  those  who  believe  that  they  would  be 
committing  a  great  crime  if  they  performed  the  slightest  labor 
on  the  Sunday,  or  if  they  were  not  the  first  at  every  performance 
of  divine  service ;  while  it  never  occurs  to  them  to  regard  as  sin 
the  secret  service  of  mammon  to  which  they  are  devoted — who 
on  no  account  would  suffer  themselves  to  be  seen  at  a  theater  or 
a  ball — in  which  they  do  well — but  forgive  themselves,  without 
hesitation,  for  compensating  themselves  for  that  privation,  by 
taking  part,  in  imagination,  in  all  the  enjoyments  and  pleasures 
of  the  world,  and  bloat  with  vanity,  in  their  way,  not  less  than 
the  most  frivolous  characters  of  the  age — who  never  fail  to 
appear  at  the  institution  of  beneficent  establishments  and  asso- 
ciations, and  head  the  list  of  the  contributors,  while  they  make  no 
scruple  of  secretly  practicing  deceit  and  imposition  in  their  trade 
and  business,  or  of  acting  unjustly  or  severely  toward  those  who 
are  under  them,  or  of  their  avarice  and  greediness  for  transitory 
honor  ? 

One  of  the  crafty  devices  by  which  men  pass  by  the  moral 
claims  which  God  makes  on  our  conduct  is,  that  instead  of  bow- 
ing to  the  divine  yoke,  they  form  and  impose  another  more 
pleasing  to  the  flesh ;  thus  trying  to  make  it  appear  as  if  they 
performed  more  than  God's  commands  enjoined  upon  them.  Thus 
arose  the  traditions  of  the  Talmudistic  Rabbis,  which,  although 
they  are  nothing  but  exercises  easy  to  be  performed,  afforded  to 
those  who  practiced  them  the  semblance  of  a  special  piety,  con- 
scientiousness, and  faithfulness  in  the  discharge  of  duty.  In  this 
way  also,  arose  the  shallow  and  sentimental  morality  of  our  mod- 
ern sophists — that  tissue  of  unobjectionable  rules  of  life,  which  is 


CIIRIST  BEFORE   PILATE.  231 

likewise  derived  solely  from  the  surface  of  moral  consciousness, 
and  winch  may  be  practiced  just  as  conveniently  as  their  per- 
formance aids  us  in  the  obtainment  of  a  virtuous  appearance  at 
an  easy  rate.  But  he  is  mistaken  who  supposes  that  by  such 
counterfeit  holiness  he  shall  be  able  to  settle  accounts  with  the 
Most  High;  and  he  dishonors  and  insults  him,  who  hopes  to 
bribe  him  with  "cups  and  platters,"  outwardly  clean,  but  in- 
wardly full  of  "ravening  wickedness."  He  who  reigns  on 
high  is  just  as  little  satisfied  with  mere  deductions  from  the 
amount  of  obedience  due  to  him  as  with  the  counters  of  our 
self-chosen  works,  instead  of  the  pure  gold  of  righteousness  re- 
quired by  his  law.  "  The  eyes  of  the  Lord,"  said  the  prophet 
Hanani  to  King  Asa,  "run  to  and  fro  throughout  the  whole 
earth,  to  show  himself  strong  in  the  behalf  of  those  whose  heart 
is  perfect  toward  him."  He  desires  the  whole  man  and  not 
mere  fractional  parts.  He  that  can  not  resolve  to  devote  himself 
to  his  service  without  reserve,  loses  nothing  by  withdrawing 
himself  entirely,  and  placing  himself  at  the  disposal  of  the  world 
and  his  own  lusts.  There  is  no  medium  betwixt  belief  and  un- 
belief. In  the  exercise  of  the  former,  we  give  ourselves  entirely 
to  God;  and  where  this  is  not  done,  there  faith  does  not  exist, 
however  specious  the  man  may  be  in  his  outward  profession. 
True  conversion  is  a  new  birth,  and  not  a  patching  up  of  the 
old  garment.  The  life  of  godliness  is  a  harmonious  organization, 
and  not  a  sticking  together  of  single  acts  of  piety. 

Pilate  soon  begins  to  suspect  why  the  Jews  pushed  their  cul- 
prit toward  him  through  the  gate,  but  feels  so  little  offended  at 
this,  that  he  pretends  ignorance,  and  magnanimously  steps  out 
to  them  to  ascertain  the  object  of  their  coming.  He  considers 
that  he  has  only  to  do  with  contracted  and  narrow-minded  Jews, 
and  deems  that  it  comports  both  with  his  refinement  and  his 
dignity  to  tolerate  their  limited  prejudices.  But  with  these  prej- 
udices, he  overlooks  the  fact  of  the  divine  records  being  in  their 
possession.  There  is  no  want,  my  readers,  of  people  among 
us  who  assume,  but  not  without  culpability,  a  position  with  re- 
ference to  real  Christians,  similar  to  that  of  this  proud  Boman 
toward  the  children  of  Abraham.  It  can  not  be  denied  that 
there  are  believing  Christians  who  suffer  from  a  certain  partiality 


232  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

and  contracted  judgment  with  reference  to  the  things  of  science, 
art,  or  life.  But,  however,  those  of  a  more  refined  intellect  may- 
look  down  with  a  degree  of  compassion  on  these  simple  people 
and  their  narrow  sphere  of  vision,  and  though  it  may  be  no 
crime  to  do  so,  for  it  is  often  difficult  to  bear  with  such  limited 
and  contracted  characters,  yet,  though  you  may  appear  to  your- 
selves to  be  elevated  above  such  people,  and  suppose  that  it 
becomes  you  to  tolerate,  with  their  narrow-mindedness,  the 
truths  which  they  profess ;  yet  you  act  improperly  by  so  doing, 
and  will  one  day  smart  severely  for  your  self-esteem.  If  you 
are  really  in  every  respect  far  beyond  these  "poor  in  spirit," 
there  is  nothing  left  for  you,  if  you  are  desirous  of  attaining  to 
the  highest  aim  of  your  existence,  but  to  descend  from  your 
proud  elevation,  and  place  yourselves  on  the  same  level  with 
them.  Yes,  you  must  come  down  to  their  humble  position,  and, 
with  them,  learn  to  hunger  and  thirst  after  a  righteousness  which 
is  not  your  own ;  and  to  the  position  of  Lazarus  at  the  rich  man's 
door,  which  is  Christ,  where  you  see  them  also  lying.  You 
must  even  be  brought  to  acknowledge  that  they  are  far  beyond 
you  in  all  that  is  of  real  value ;  and  that  you  are  on  the  way  to 
midnight  darkness,  if  the  faith,  love,  and  heavenly-mindedness 
of  these  humble  followers  of  the  Lamb  do  not  become  yours. 
You  are  not  restrained  from  being  in  advance  of  them  in  refine- 
ment, extensive  benevolence,  and  maturity  of  judgment,  or  from 
moving  more  freely  and  unlettered,  as  far  as  the  Spirit  from 
above  gives  you  liberty.  But  you  must  be  grafted  into  the  same 
stock  with  these  inferior  people,  and  flourish  from  the  same  root, 
or  you  will  continue,  on  the  height  of  your  intellectual  superi- 
ority, to  be  the  children  of  death,  while  they  will  eventually 
soar  toward  heaven  as  glorified  spirits  from  the  dark  chrysalis 
state  of  their  defective  education.  Therefore  beware  that  you 
do  not  throw  away  the  kernel  with  the  shell,  nor  be  found  pre- 
ferring external  polish  to  that  meek  and  humble  spirit  which,  in 
the  sight  ot  God,  is  of  great  price. 

"Pilate  then  went  out  unto  the  people,  and  said,  What 
accusation  bring  ye  against  this  man?"  He  assumes  the  ap- 
pearance of  unbelief  and  indifference,  but  he  was  able  to  take  a 
more  unprejudiced  view  of  the  matter  than  the  Jews,  and  can  not 


CHRIST   BEFORE   PILATE.  233 

think,  after  all  he  has  hitherto  heard  of  the  Nazarene,  and  feels 
at  that  moment  that  they  would  be  able  to  bring  any  serious 
charge  against  him.  Like  as  with  Pilate,  so  it  is  still  with 
every  one  who  looks  unprejudicedly  into  the  sacred  volume. 
Such  a  one  will  not  be  able  to  rid  himself  of  the  impression  of 
the  spotlessness  of  Jesus,  which  nothing  can  shake  or  neutralize. 
But  ought  it  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  matter  of  astonishment  that 
a  Holy  One,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  words,  has  really  appeared 
in  the  world  ?  Does  it  not  indisputably  follow  that  the  sayings 
of  this  Just  One  are  much  more  worthy  of  credence  than  the 
doctrines  of  all  the  wise  men  after  the  flesh  ?  Does  it  not  con- 
strain us  to  the  conviction  that  a  person  so  illustrious  and 
superior  to  all  other  mortals,  must  have  been  sent  by  God  for 
some  very  particular  object  ?  And  does  not  this  idea  necessarily 
lead  to  another,  that  there  must  be  something  extraordinary  and 
mysterious  attached  to  the  sufferings  which  were  poured  upon 
this  Holy  One  ?  And  do  we  not,  finally,  perceive,  without  any 
positive  revelation  respecting  it,  that  we  are  compelled  to  come 
to  the  conclusion,  that  this  incomparable  personage  must  have 
been  selected  to  be  the  deliverer  and  saviour  of  a  sinful  world  ? 
It  is  impossible  to  avoid  such  reflections,  after  an  unprejudiced 
and  logical  consideration  of  the  subject.  But  we  may  well  ask, 
where  do  we  meet  with  such  sound  and  liberal  minded  reasoners? 
The  indocility  and  stupidity  of  the  natural  man,  with  regard  to 
supernatural  and  divine  things,  has  no  bounds. 

To  the  governor's  question,  of  what  Jesus  is  accused,  the  fol- 
lowing haughty  and  insane  reply  is  returned  by  his  accusers, 
"  If  he  were  not  a  malefactor,  we  would  not  have  delivered  him 
up  unto  thee."  In  this  impudent  speech,  their  entire  refrac- 
toriness toward  the  hated  Eomans  is  made  apparent.  It  is  the 
rebelliousness  of  fettered  slaves,  the  fury  of  encaged  wolves. 
Here  again  we  perceive  also,  the  furious  pharisaism  of  the  priests 
and  the  people ;  for  though  they  are  endeavoring  to  murder  inno- 
cence and  do  the  devil's  work,  yet  because  they  do  it,  it  must 
be  right  and  blameless.  Can  pride  go  beyond  this  ?  Do  not  let 
us  overlook  the  circumstance,  however,  that  by  their  arrogant 
language  they  hope  to  disguise  the  embarrassment  in  which,  des- 
pite of  all  appearance  to  the  contrary,  they  have  involved  them- 


234  THE  HOLY  PLACE. 

selves.  They  know  of  nothing  from  which  they  can  form  a 
well-grounded  charge  against  their  delinquent,  and  think  that 
the  bold  front  they  put  on  the  affair  will  compensate  for  what 
is  deficient  in  proof  and  testimony  against  Jesus. 

Alas !  they  do  not  entirely  fail  in  their  object.  Pilate  suffers 
himself  to  be  overawed  by  their  determined  appearance,  and 
places  the  first  foot  on  that  slippery  path  on  which  we  shall 
afterward  see  him  carried  forward,  from  one  crime  to  another, 
against  his  will,  and  finally  ending  in  the  abyss  of  perdition, 
amid  the  derisive  laughter  of  infernal  spirits.  "Then  said 
Pilate  unto  them,  Take  ye  him,  and  judge  him  according  to 
your  law."  What  worthless  behavior  in  a  judge  who  ought 
to  administer  law  and  justice  in  the  land !  We  already  see  how 
little  he  cares  whether  Jesus  lives  or  dies,  only  he  would  not 
willingly  have  the  blood  of  a  man  upon  his  soul  whom  his  con- 
science absolves  as  innocent. 

More  reckless  than  the  Roman  are  those  of  our  cotem- 
poraries,  who,  like  Pilate,  would  not  personally  lay  hands  on 
Jesus,  because  they  can  not  divest  themselves  of  a  certain  degree 
of  reverence  for  him,  but  secretly  suggest  to  bolder  rebels  than 
themselves,  that  which  Pilate  did  openly,  when  he  said,  "  Take 
him  and  judge  him  according  to  your  law,"  and  feel  a  malicious 
pleasure  when  the  emissaries  of  Satan  drag  down  the  Holy  One 
into  the  dust,  pollute  his  Gospel  with  their  infernal  blasphemies, 
and  reward  his  believing  followers  with  the  appellation  of  fools, 
or  brand  them  as  hypocrites.  Compared  with  those  who  view 
with  silent  delight  the  anti-Christian  proceedings  and  rebellious 
movements  of  the  age,  Pilate  was  an  honorable  man,  while  they 
are  worthy  of  a  double  curse,  and  already  bear  the  mark  of  it  on 
their  foreheads. 

"  Take  ye  him,  and  judge  him  according  to  your  law."  The 
heathen  governor  would  gladly  have  escaped  from  sharing  the 
guilt  of  murdering  the  Righteous  One,  whom  the  Jews  had  deliv- 
ered up  to  him.  But  he  will  not  succeed  in  his  object  on  the  path 
he  is  now  pursuing.  He  must  either  decide  for  or  against  Jesus. 
He  is  compelled  either  to  take  the  part  of  the  Holy  One,  to  the 
setting  aside  of  all  private  considerations,  or  to  afford  his  sanc- 
tion to  the  most  cruel  and  bloody  deed  the  world  ever  witnessed. 


CHRIST   BEFORE   PILATE.  235 

But,  my  readers,  the  case  is  similar  with  us.  There  is  just  as 
little  room  left  us  for  a  neutral  position  as  was  left  him.  The 
Holy  One  of  Israel  comes  into  too  close  a  contact  with  us  to  be 
quietly  passed  by.  If  we  refuse  to  do  him  homage,  we  are  com- 
pelled to  aid  in  crucifying  him.  We  can  not  escape  the  alterna- 
tive of  rejecting  him,  if  we  will  not  decidedly  devote  ourselves 
to  him.  He  testifies  too  loudly  to  our  consciences  that  He  is 
the  Lord,  to  suffer  us  quietly  to  part  with  him  with  a  mere  pass- 

•  ing  compliment.  If  we  wish  to  separate  ourselves  from  him, 
no.hing  is  left  for  us  but  to  say,  in  positive  opposition,  "We 
Mill  not  have  thee  to  reign  over  us ;  get  thee  behind  us  !"  God 
grant  that  this  may  not  be  the  case  with  any  of  us,  but  enable 
us  to  exclaim,  with  the  apostle  Thomas,  "My  Lord  and  my 
God!" 

The  Jews  close  the  outlet  before  Pilate's  face  by  which  he 
hoped  to  escape  from  any  participation  in  the  dreadful  crime 
of  the  murder  of  Jesus,  by  giving  him  a  reply  which  ought  to 
have  made  him  feel  deeply  ashamed,  "It  is  not  lawful  for  us," 
say  they,  "to  put  any  man  to  death."  Pilate  knew  this,  and 
what  confusion  of  ideas  and  increasing  perplexity  does  the  man 
betray,  who,  though  he  was  the  supreme  judge,  could  recom- 
mend to  the  Jews  themselves  the  execution  of  an  act  of  justice 
to  which  they  had  no  right,  according  to  the  existing  laws. 
Or  was  Pilate  induced  to  express  himself  thus  foolishly,  from 
having  no  idea  that  the  accusers  of  Jesus  were  bent  upon  his 
death?  This  is  also  conceivable.  But  his  miserable  attempt 
at  an  escape  is  wholly  frustrated,  as  it  deserved.  There  is 
something  really  tragical  in  the  fact  that  circumstances  should 
so  concur  and  be  interwoven  with  each  other  that  it  would 
seem  as  if  Pilate  was  to  be  drawn  into  the  blood-guiltiness 
of  the  Jews.     And  this  will  assuredly  be   the   case  if  he  can 

"  not  resolve  to  give  his  heart,  and  pay  homage  to  Jesus,  even 
as  every  one  who  obstinately  resists  the  call  to  conversion  must 
increasingly  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  sins,  and  accelerate  his 
ripeness  for  destruction. 

"It  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  one  to  death."  They 
were  not  permitted  to  do  so.  If,  on  one  occasion,  they  tumultu- 
ously  stoned  a  supposed  heretic  to  death,  the  Roman  authorities 


236  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

probably  .leniently  overlooked  it.  But  in  order  to  a  formal 
accusation,  and  death  by  crucifixion  in  particular,  they  could 
not  do  without  superior  consent.  Hence  they  openly,  though 
with  stifled  rage,  confess  their  dependence  on  the  Roman  tri- 
bunal. Their  thirst  for  revenge  upon  the  Nazarene,  however, 
this  time  outweighs  their  national  pride.  The  man  they  hate  is 
doomed  to  be  crucified  and  to  perish  ignominiously.  Such  are 
their  thoughts.  But  the  Lord  in  heaven  also  exercises  an  influ- 
ence in  the  affair.  The  evangelist  remarks,  "That  the  saying 
of  Jesus  might  be  fulfilled  which  he  spake,  signifying  what  death 
he  should  die."  John  has  reference  here  to  the  words  recorded 
in  ch.  xii.  32,  of  his  Gospel,  "  And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the 
earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me,"  adding  the  explanatory  re- 
mark, "  This  he  said,  signifying  what  death  he  should  die." 

In  the  tumultuous  assemblage  before  the  governor's  palace  at 
Jerusalem,  we  are,  therefore,  unexpectedly  aware  of  a  divine  in- 
timation respecting  the  Saviour.  The  counsel  of  the  Eternal 
Father  displays  itself,  and  in  its  depths  a  cross  is  descried  for  his 
only-begotten  Son,  even  as  it  was  also  in  the  plans  of  Satan. 
For  the  sake  of  the  symbolical  meaning  included  in  it,  the 
accursed  tree  was  selected  in  the  counsels  of  eternity,  as  the  in- 
strument of  the  Saviour's  death.  The  brazen  serpent  in  the 
wilderness,  as  well  as  the  wave-offering  of  the  tabernacle,  early 
shadowed  it  forth  to  the  people  of  God.  The  crowd  which  had 
assembled  round  Gabbatha,  unconsciously  aided  in  realizing  it. 
It  now  stands  erected  in  history,  in  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel, 
and  in  the  minds  of  men,  and  manifests  its  wonder-working  and 
attractive  influence  in  an  increasing  measure,  to  this  hour. 

We  conclude  our  meditation,  strengthened  afresh,  as  I  hope, 
in  the  twofold  conviction,  that  our  forgiveness  unconditionally 
demanded  a  vicarious  sacrifice,  and  that  the  whole  of  our  Lord's 
passion  can  only  be  properly  understood  when  regarded  from  such 
a  point  of  view.  We  are  reasonably  astonished  at  the  wisdom 
of  the  Almighty,  who  has  so  wonderfully  solved  the  greatest 
of  all  problems — that  of  the  restoration  of  a  race  which  had 
fallen  under  the  curse,  to  the  divine  right  of  sonship,  without 
thereby  denying  his  holiness.  This  solution  is  found  in  the  Sa- 
viour's obedience  and  death.     Let  us  adoringly  bow  the  knee  to 


THE  ACCUSATIONS.  237 

him,  and  join  with  thankful  hearts  in  the  song  of  the  Church 
triumphant^  "Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  and  hath 
redeemed  us  to  God  by  his  blood,  out  of  every  kindred  and 
tongue,  and  peof  le,  and  nation  1" 


XXVII. 

THE    ACCUSATION'S. 

After  the  Jews  had  gained  their  first  victory  over  the  govern- 
or, for  as  such  they  might  account  it,  in  having  succeeded, 
by  their  imposing  attitude,  in  wresting  from  him  the  reply, 
u  Take  ye  him  and  judge  him  according  to  your  law,"  they  pro- 
ceed with  increasing  courage,  and  bring  forward  accusations 
against  their  prisoner,  by  which  they  hope  completely  to  in- 
fluence the  Roman,  and  induce  him  to  favor  their  murderous 
project.  They  are  acquainted  with  his  weak  side — his  pride 
of  office,  his  ambition,  and,  in  particular,  his  dependence  on 
the  favor'  of  his  imperial  master;  and  toward  this  point  they 
direct  their  assault.  They  abstain  from  repeating,  before  a 
heathen  tribunal,  accusations  against  Jesus  which  they  could 
successfully  bring  forward  against  him  in  their  Jewish  Sanhe- 
drim. Instead  of  an  ecclesiastical,  they  make  before  Pilate  a 
political  charge.  They  accuse  the  Lord  of  a  threefold  crime, 
which,  because  it  is  imputed  to  him,  in  a  certain  sense,  by  his 
opponents  and  the  enemies  of  his  kingdom,  even  in  the  present 
day,  is  worthy  of  particular  investigation. 

!  "We  have  found  this  fellow  perverting  the  nation,"  This 
is  the  first  of  the  three  charges  brought  against  him.  They 
intend  by  it  to  say,  "This  man  seeks  to  lessen  the  respect 
due  to  the  constituted  authorities."  The  worthless  beings,  who 
were  themselves  puffed  up  with  revolutionary  feelings,  and  in- 
■  utly  intent  upon  inciting  the  people  against  the  Roman 
sovereignty !  But  to  bring  forward  against  Jesus  a  charge  like 
the  one  just  mentioned,  some  shadow  of  truth  was  requisite,  and 


238  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

this  they  found  in  the  position  which  the  Lord  had  taken  up 
with  reference  to  the  priests  and  scribes.  For  as  regards  the 
priests,  our  Lord  certainly  did  not  instruct  his  disciples  to  place 
their  trust  in  them,  as  their  real  mediators  with  God,  or  to  seek 
in  their  sacrifices  the  cause  of  their  justification  in  Ms  sight.  If, 
by  this,  he  detracted  from  the  authority  of  the  sons  of  Aaron,  he 
did  nothing  more  than  reduce  this  authority  to  the  correct  meas- 
ure intended  by  God,  and  thus  purified  the  veneration  which 
the  people  showed  them,  from  the  elements  of  a  dangerous  delu- 
sion and  superstition,  which  had  occasionally  been  attached  to 
them  in  contradiction  to  the  Word  of  God.  But  where  had  he 
denied  to  the  priesthood  of  Israel  the  authority  of  a  divine 
mstitution,  and  refused  it  the  reverence  and  submission  which 
belonged  to  it  as  such?  His  position  as  regards  the  priesthood 
was  certainly  peculiar  and  unique.  The  latter,  as  a  prophetic 
shadow,  had  pointed  to  him,  and  in  him,  as  its  essential  anti- 
type, it  was  intended  to  reach  its  aim  and  termination.  This 
was  not  to  be  accomplished  by  means  of  a  violent  overthrow  of 
existing  institutions,  but  on  the  even  and  hallowed  path  of  a 
gradual  development.  Of  itself, 'and  in  consequence  of  an  in- 
ternal necessity,  the  priesthood  of  the  old  tabernacle  was  to 
give  way  to  that  which  is  true  and  real,  just  as  the  blossom 
makes  room  for  the  fruit,  or  like  the  butterfly  bursting  from  the 
chrysalis.  Therefore,  as  long  as  Jesus  had  not  fulfilled  the 
entire  requirements  of  his  high-priestly  calling,  and  as  long  as 
the  great  atoning  sacrifice  had  not  been  offered  on  the  cross,  he 
gave  all  honor  to  the  Levitical  priesthood,  for  the  sake  of  their 
divine  appointment.  Not  only  did  he  visit  the  temple  as  the 
house  of  God,  and  celebrate  the  festivals  of  Israel  as  sanctified  by 
him,  but  he  obediently  submitted  also  to  all  the  Levitical  statutes 
enjoined  by  Moses,  from  the  circumcision  and  presentation  in 
the  temple,  to  the  eating  of  the  paschal  lamb.  And  not  only  so, 
but  he  did  not  fail  to  enjoin  upon  others  the  punctual  fulfillment 
of  their  ecclesiastical  duties;  so  that  he  did  not  even  absolve 
the  leper,  whom  he  had  healed,  from  presenting  himself  to 
the  priests,  and  offering  the  sacrifices  appointed  by  Moses  in 
such  a  case.  So  little  did  the  reproach  apply  to  him  of  de- 
grading what  was  divinely  authorized,  that   the  latter  found  in 


THE   ACCUSATIONS.  239 

him  a  powerful  support ;  and  so  far  was  he  from  loosening  the 
bond  between  the  people  and  their  superiors,  that  he  was  wont 
to  enjoin  upon  all  who  came  to  him  the  most  unconditional  sub- 
mission to  them — of  course  after  divesting  it  of  all  superstitious 
intermixture. 

The  Lord  acted  toward  the  elders  of  the  people,  whether  they 
were  Pharisees  or  Sadducees,  as  he  did  toward  the  priests.  It 
is  true  that  as  the  Master  of  all,  he  reproved  their  errors  and 
sins,  as  appears  from  Mark,  vii.  13,  and  refused  in  any  manner 
to  justify  their  human  invented  ordinances  and  traditions,  by 
which  the  word  of  God  was  only  weakened  and  rendered  void. 
He,  nevertheless,  unhesitatingly  recognized  their  divine  appoint- 
ment, as,  you  will  remember,  is  evident  from  Matt,  xxiii.  2,  3, 
where  he  says,  "  The  scribes  and  Pharisees  sit  in  Moses's  seat. 
All,  therefore,  whatsoever  they  bid  you  observe,  that  observe 
and  do ;  but  do  not  ye  after  their  works,  for  they  say  and  do 
not,"  Could  this  be  called  weakening  the  respect  due  to  the 
constituted  authorities,  or  was  it  not  rather  the  contrary  ? 

In  the  present  day,  the  Christ  of  the  Protestant  Church,  who, 
as  the  Scriptural  Christ,  is  certainly  a  somewhat  different  Christ 
from  that  of  the  Church  of  Eome,  is  reproached  in  a  similar 
manner  by  the  latter  as  he  was  formerly  by  the  Jews.  This 
arises  from  the  universal  priesthood  of  all  believers,  instituted 
by  Christ  himself,  and  realized  in  our  Church,  in  virtue  of  which 
they  are  called  to  immediate  fellowship  with  Christ,  and  no 
longer  need  any  further  mediators  between  him  and  them.  A 
priesthood  with  mediating  rights,  finds  just  as  little  room  in  the 
Protestant  Church,  as  there  exists  any  cause  or  motive  for  in- 
voking the  glorified  saints  for  their  intercession.  Now,  if  a  warn- 
ing against  the  delusion,  that  for  the  laity,  absolution,  forgive- 
and  every  favor  and  answer  to  prayer  is  only  attainable 
by  a  human  hierarchical  intervention,  may  be  called  a  weaken- 
ing of  authority — then  certainly  it  may  be  said  of  Christ,  that 
he  perverted  the  people.  This,  however,  is  no  longer  a  reproach, 
a  commendation,  because  he  turned  the  people  aside  from 
horities  which  do  not  deserve  the  name,  not  being  divinely 
instituted  and  appointed.      But  this  does  not  exclude    the  fact 

I  he  most  expressly,  though  in  the  spirit  of  Christian  liberty, 


240  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

claims  the  submission  of  believers  to  the  official  ordinances  of 
the  Church,  which  he  has  himself  instituted  and  sanctified.  The 
pastoral  office,  with  its  various  spheres  of  operation,  is  estab- 
lished by  him.  *He  says  to  those  who  preach  his  word,  "  He 
that  despiseth  you,  despiseth  me."  He  points  them  out  to  us  as 
stewards  of  the  divine  mysteries,  and  says  to  the  members  of  the 
Churches,  by  the  mouth  of  his  apostle,  "  Let  the  elders  that  rule 
well,  be  counted  worthy  of  double  honor."  "  Obey  them  that 
have  the  rule  over  you,  and  submit  yourselves ;  for  they  watch 
for  your  souls."  It  is  thus  the  Lord  supports  the  authorities  of 
the  Church  which  rest  on  divine  institution,  and  only  properly 
rejects,  with  all  earnestness  and  emphasis,  those  unjustifiable  as- 
sumptions which  are  contrary  to  the  word  of  G-od. 

The  second  accusation  which  is  brought  against  the  Lord  Jesus 
by  the  Jews,  is  that  of  "forbidding  to  give  tribute  to  Cossar." 
Truly,  a  more  unjust  accusation  than  this  they  could  not  have 
invented  against  him.  It  is  devoid  of  the  slightest  foundation  ; 
and  we  are  compelled  to  believe  that  it  occurred  to  them  only 
because  they  were  still  smarting  under  the  disgrace  of  the  defeat 
they  had  experienced  at  his  hands,  when  they  endeavored  to 
draw  from  him  a  disloyal  expression.  Luke  mentions  this  affair  in 
the  twentieth  chapter  of  his  Gospel.  The  chief  priests  and  scribes 
sought,  even  at  that  time,  how  they  might  lay  hands  upon  him ; 
but  their  evil  conscience  made  them  afraid  of  the  people,  in 
whose  esteem  they  had  already  begun  to  sink  considerably.  That 
which  they  did  not  venture  to  execute  by  force,  they  sought  to 
attain  by  craftiness,  and  under  the  assumed  appearance  of  what 
was  just  and  right.  For  this  purpose  they  induced  some  worth- 
less individuals  of  their  party,  disguised  in  the  mask  of  piety, 
and  pretending  to  be  secretly  his  disciples,  to  attempt  to  take 
hold  of  his  words,  so  that  they  might  have  an  ostensible  ground 
for  delivering  him  up  to  the  civil  power.  The  bribed  emissaries 
approach  the  Saviour,  in  the  garb  of  reverential  submission,  and 
ask,  with  the  innocent  mien  of  those  who  seek  instruction, 
"  Master,  we  know  that  thou  say  est  and  teachest  rightly,  neither 
acceptest  thou  the  person  of  any,  but  teachest  the  way  of  G-od 
truly.  Is  it  lawful  for  us  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar,  or  no  ?"  The 
net  was  cunningly  spread,  but  in  such  a  manner  that  they  were 


THE  ACCUSATIONS.  241 

caught  in  it  themselves.  The  Lord  immediately  saw  through 
snare,  and  tore  away  the  hypocritical  mask  from  them,  by 
-imple  question,  "Why  tempt  ye  me?"  He  then  asked 
them  to  show  him  a  penny,  which  being  done,  he  takes  the  coin. 
holds  it  up  to  them,  and  asks,  "  Whose  image  and  superscription 
hath  it  ?  They  answer,  '  Caesar's.' "  And  he  said  unto  them, 
"Render,  therefore,  to  Caesar  the  things  which  be  Caesar's,  and 
unto  God  the  things  which  be  God's."  The  narrative  informs  us 
that  they  could  not  take  hold  of  his  words  before  the  people,  and 
they  marveled  at  his  answer,  and  held  their  peace. 

This  single  expression  of  our  Lord's  perfectly  suffices  to  show 
us  what  was  his  political  principle,  if  I  may  so  call  it.  A  hea- 
then emperor  then  reigned  over  Judea,  an  enemy  to  God  and 
his  cause.  But  still  he  ruled,  and  wielded  the  scepter. '  The  coin 
which  bore  his  image  testified  of  this.  The  Lord  commanded 
that  it  should  be  returned  to  him  to  whom  it  belonged.  What 
else  did  he  intimate  by  so  doing,  than  that  which  was  subse- 
quently enjoined  upon  us  by  his  apostle  in  his  name,  in  Eom. 
xiii.  1-3,  where  we  read,  "  Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the 
higher  powers.  For  there  is  no  power  but  of  God :  the  powers 
that  be  are  ordained  of  God.  Whosoever,  therefore,  resisteth 
the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God  j  and  they  that  resist 
shall  receive  to  themselves  condemnation.  For  rulers  are  not  a 
terror  to  good  works,  but  to  the  evil.  Wilt  thou,  then,  not  be 
afraid  of  the  power?  Do  that  which  is  good,  and  thou  shalt 
have  praise  of  the  same."  Christ,  therefore,  is"  so  far  from 
favoring  revolt,  that  he  threatens  with  judgment  all  resistance 
to  the  existing  authorities,  whatever  they  may  be,  as  though  it 
were  a  rebellion  against  the  majesty  of  God  himself.  He  enjoins 
us,  in  his  word,  to  be  "  subject  to  our  masters  with  all  fear,  not 
only  to  the  good  and  gentle,  but  also  to  the  fro  ward."  If  a 
tyrant  rules  over  us,  there  is  no  question  as  to  what  is  our  duty, 
according  to  our  magna  charta,  the  Holy  Scriptures.  In  the 
autocrat  and  the  despot  we  have  to  recognize  a  chastening  rod 
ust  us  by  the  hand  of  God,  and  quietly  endure  it, 
while  calling  to  mind  our  sins.  Even  the  most  crying  injustice, 
inflicted  upon  us  by  legitimate  authority,  does  not  absolve  us 
from  the  duty  of  obedience  to  it.     If  the  government  commands 

11 


242  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

any  thing  contrary  to  our  consciences  and  the  word  of  G-od,  we 
may  then  offer  passive  resistance,  but  nothing  more.  We 
refuse  obedience  with  all  reverence,  and  patienly  endure  the 
consequences  of  so  doing  for  the  Lord's  sake.  These  principles 
stand  immutably  firm,  as  being  those  of  the  religion  of  Christ. 
The  Lord  has  proclaimed  them,  and,  by  his  own  example,  has 
set  his  seal  upon  them. 

The  third  and  last  accusation  brought  against  Jesus  is,  that  he 
had  said  of  himself  that  he  was  "  Christ,  a  king."  They  wish 
Pilate  to  understand  this  in  a  political  sense.  But  how  far  the 
Lord  was  from  causing  or  fostering  such  an  idea  of  the  object 
of  his  coming  into  the  world,  my  readers  well  know.  The  Jews 
often  attempted  by  force  to  make  him  act  the  part  of  a  king ; 
and  would  have  borne  him  on  their  hands,  and  loaded  him  with 
homage  and  crowns  of  honor,  as  the  liberator  of  his  people  from 
the  disgraceful  yoke  of  foreigners.  But  as  often  as  he  perceived 
any  movement  of  the  kind,  he  escaped  from  the  multitude,  and 
hid  himself.  And  when  his  own  disciples  expressed  similar  sen- 
timents respecting  the  kingdom  he  came  to  establish,  he 
never  failed  to  reprove  them  severely,  to  rectify  their  mis- 
takes, and  to  impress  upon  them,  again  and  again,  the  fact  that 
his  kingdom  came  not  with  outward  observation,  but  was  within 
them. 

The  Jews  also  were  well  aware  how  far  it  had  always  been 
from  his  intention  to  found  a  kingdom  according  to  their  views ; 
and  this  was*  the  very  thing  which  irritated  them  above  every 
thing  else,  and  kindled  their  animosity  against  him.  Neverthe- 
less their  effrontery  and  mendacity  extend  so  far,  that  they  now 
impute  to  him,  as  his  desire  and  aim,  what  they  had  fruitlessly 
labored  to  induce  him  to  attempt.  They  thus  open  out  to  us  a 
new  view  into  the  treachery  and  craftiness  of  the  human  heart, 
and  give  evidence  that  they  are  well-schooled  and  tutored 
children  of  the  father  of  lies. 

You  know  that  the  endeavor  to  stamp  Christ  as  an  earthly 
king  did  not  expire  with  the  Jewish  scribes  and  Pharisees.  A 
Church  exists,  which  ascribes  it  to  the  Lord,  not  in  the  way  of 
accusation,  but  of  commendation,  that  his  intention  was  to  found 
"a  kingdom  of  this  world."     It  represents   Christ  as  handing 


THE   ACCUSATIONS.  243 

over  to  Peter  two  swords,  emblematical  of  spiritual  and  temporal 
Bower ;  and  that  from  Mm  they  pass  to  his  pretended  successors 
the  popes,  as  the  head  of  the  Church,  and  as  far  as  kings  and 
princes  reign  in  the  world,  they  bear  the  sword  of  authority  only 
by  commission  from  the  Church,  and  as  a  fief  of  the  latter.  The 
Church  is  authorized,  in  case  of  their  refusing  the  service 
claimed,  to  withdraw  their  power  and  authority  from  them,  and 
to  absolve  the  people  from  their  oath  of  allegiance.  This  Church 
does  not  say  with  the  apostle,  "  The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are 
not  carnal ;"  but  deems  itself  called  upon,  by  means  of  both 
swords,  to  protect  and  enlarge  its  territories.  It  has  excom- 
munications and  interdicts  for  its  disobedient  children,  and  the 
prison  and  the  scaffold  for  heretics.  For  its  own  interests,  it 
declares  war  and  institutes  crusades.  To  celebrate  the  bloody 
eve  of  St,  Bartholomew,  it  orders  medals  to  be  struck ;  and  the 
history  of  Otaheite  tells  us  of  a  mission  by  the  mouths  of  cannon. 
A  single  glance  into  the  Gospels  will  deprive  us  of  every  doubt 
whether  it  was  the  intention  of  the  Saviour  that  his  Church, 
the  Bride  of  heaven,  should  be  clothed  in  such  attire.  The  Lord 
his  messengers  the  salutation  of  peace  on  their  way,  and 
not  the  word  of  arbitrary  power  or  excommunication.  He  girds 
them  with  meekness  and  with  ministering  love,  and  not  with 
severity  and  inquisitorial  rigor.  He  points  out  their  work  to 
them  as  that  of  the  good  Samaritan,  and  not  as  oppressors  and 
inquisitors.  He  certainly  requires  "coals  of  fire"  for  his  oppo- 
nents, but  only  such  as  are  heaped  on  their  heads  by  patience 
and  unwearied  kindness.  It  is  also  his  will  that  they  that  are 
without  should  be  compelled  to  come  in,  but  he  will  have  them 
quietly  sought  for  in  the  highways  and.  hedges,  and  be  greeted 
with  the  peaceful  salutation,  "Come,  for  all  things  are  now 
!"     He  also  desires  that  the  fallen,  and  such  as  are  going 

y,  should  be  restored  from  the  error  of  their  ways;  but  that 
it  be  done  in  the  spirit  of  meekness.  Besides  this,  he  requires 
from   his    followers    that    they   should    forgive    those    who    sin 

ist  them,  seventy  times  seven  times,  and  says  in  particular 
to  those  who  bear  the  pastoral  office,  "  Ye  know  that  the 
princes  of  the  G-entiles  exercise  dominion  over  them,  and  they 
that  are  great,  exercise  authority  upon  them.     But  it  shall  not 


244  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

be  so  among  you ;  but  whosoever  will  be  great  among  you,  let 
him  be  your  servant." 

But  a?  certainly  as  Christ  did  not  come  to  establish  an  earthly 
kingdom ;  so  surely  will  his  dominion  eventually  swallow "  up  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  become  itself  an*  earthly  empire. 
Yet  will  this  not  be  accomplished  by  means  of  any  powerful 
overthrow  or  assault  from  without:  but  by  the  inward  opera- 
tion and  creative  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  potentates  of 
this  world  will  deposit  their  crowns  and  scepters  in  homage  at 
Jesus's  feet,  in  order  to  receive  them  back  consecrated,  and  as  a 
fief  from  the  hand  of  the  King  of  kings.  The  people,  enlightened 
and  returned  to  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  their  souls,  will 
submit  with  delight  and  affection  to  a  government  in  which  the 
gentle  guidance  of  their  Prince  of  Peace  is  alone  perceptible. 
The  legislation  will  have,  as  its  basis,  the  word  of  the  living 
God,  and  the  economy  of  the  state  will  rest  upon  the  foundation 
of  the  Gospel.  The  offerings,  which  the  common  weal  may  re- 
quire, will  be  tendered  by  the  impulse  of  voluntary  affection, 
and  the  "  swords  will  be  turned  into  plowshares  and  the 
spears  into  pruning  hooks."  Daniel  looked  forward  to  this 
jubilee-period  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  when  he  exclaimed, 
"But  the  kingdom  and  dominion,  and  the  greatness  of  the 
kingdom  under  the  whole  heaven  shall  be  given  to  the  people 
of  the  saints  of  the  Most  High,  whose  kingdom  is  an  everlasting 
kingdom,  and  all  dominion  shall  serve  and  obey  him."  In  the 
same  manner,  Zechariah  refers  to  this  subjugation  of  all  worldly 
empire  to  Christ,  when  he  significantly  predicts  that  "In  that 
day,  shall  there  be  upon  the  bells  of  the  horses,  '  holiness  unto 
the  Lord,'  and  the  pots  in  the  Lord's  house  shall  be  like  the 
bowls  before  the  altar."  The  song  of  praise  for  this  period  of 
triumph  and  fulfillment,  lies  already  in  the  archives  of  divine 
revelation,  and  is  as  follows:  "The  kingdoms  of  this  world  are 
become  the  kingdoms  of  our  God  and  of  his  Christ!"  and  our 
Lord  comforts  us  with  the  anticipation  of  this  period,  while 
teaching  us  daily  to  pray,  in  blissful  hope,  "  Thy  kingdom 
come !" 

We  have  now  been  convinced,  my  readers,  that  nothing  could 
be  more  groundless  than  were  the   accusations  brought  against 


CHRIST   A   KING.  245 

our  Lord  before  Pilate.  Every  investigation  which  took  place 
terminated  only  in  his  greater  glorification.  We  rejoice  at  this 
result ;  for  you  know  how  much  we  are  personally  interested  in 
his  coming  forth  justified  from  every  tribunal.  "Just  and 
right  is  he."  No  guile  was  ever  found  in  his  mouth,  and 
he  was  the  personification  of  every  moral  virtue,  and  in  this 
respect,  he  has  left  us  an  example,  that  we  should  follow  his 
steps. 


XXVIII. 

CHRIST   A    KING. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  Mighty  Captive.  He  suffers  himself 
to  be  judged,  in  order  that  he  may  subsequently  interfere,  both 
legally  and  effectually,  on  our  behalf,  who  had  become  amenable 
to  divine  justice.  In  every  step  of  his  path  of  suffering,  he 
proves  himself  to  be  the  man  who  "  restored  what  he  took  not 
away."  But  he  would  not  have  been  such  a  mediator  if,  even 
in  his  form  of  humiliation,  he  had  not  been  at  the  same  time, 
"higher  than  the  heavens."  This  his  superhuman  glory  breaks 
forth  victoriously  on  every  occasion,  through  the  obscurity  of 
his  lowliness,  like  the  sun  through  the  vail  of  clouds.  Nor  can 
he  so  entirely  restrain  it  as  to  prevent  at  least  a  few  glimmerings 
of  it  from  constantly  shining  forth.  Those  who  are  the  blindest, 
are  aware  of  its  reflection,  and  feel  surprised.  But  the  sun's 
Tays  produce  one  effect  upon  a  morass,  and  another  on  the 
slumbering  germs  of  a  well-tilled  field. 

To  form  a  correct  idea,  however,  of  Pilate's  state  of  mind,  a 
different  figure  must  be  found  to  either  of  those  just  mentioned. 
For  we  still  find  in  him  a  degree  of  humanity  and  of  suscepti- 
bility for  something  better.  He  is  not  the  cold,  shallow,  worn- 
out  man  of  che  world,  to  which  many  would  degrade  him.  God, 
indeed,  will  judge  him,  but  not  with  the  lukewarm,  who  disgust 
him,  and  whom,  like  the  Laodiceans,  he  will  spue  out  of  Ins 
mouth. 


246  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

The  governor,  after  listening  to  the  accusations  of  the  priests 
and  rulers,  returns  thoughtfully  into  his  palace,  and  commands 
Jesus  to  be  again  brought  before  him.  The  sacred  sufferer  ap- 
pears in  silence  in  the  chamber  of  his  judge.  It  is  evident  that 
the  Roman  can  not  avoid  feeling  a  degree  of  veneration  for  the 
wonderful  man ;  and  who  is  there  can  do  otherwise  ?  Even  the 
rudest  scoffers  feel,  in  their  consciences,  the  sting  of  their  attacks 
upon  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  endeavor,  by  means  of  ridicule,  to 
drown  the  reproving  voice  within  them  for  their  enmity  to 
him. 

Pilate  begins  his  examination  by  asking,  "  Art  thou  the  king 
of  the  Jews?"  This  he  seems  to  have  uttered  in  a  mollified 
tone,  in  the  full  expectation  of  his  saying  in  reply,  "  God  forbid 
that  I  should  seek  after  such  liigh  things!"  Much  would  he 
have  given  to  have  heard  such  a  declaration  from  his  lips,  partly, 
that  he  might  have  a  legal  ground  for  officially  rejecting  the  ac- 
cusation of  the  malignant  Jews,  and  partly  in  order,  in  an  easy 
manner,  to  get  rid  of  the  ISTazarene,  of  whose  innocence  he  is  fully 
persuaded.  Jesus,  however,  does  not  give  tine  desired  answer  in 
the  negative ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  he  affirms  it,  after  rectifying 
the  false  views  of  his  kingdom,  with  which  the  governor  was 
imbued.  He  begins  his  reply  to  Pilate's  question,  by  asking  in 
return,  "  Say  est  thou  this  thing  of  thyself,  or  did  others  tell  it 
thee  of  me?"  These  words  were  calculated  to  remind  the 
judge  of  his  duty,  not  to  enter  further  upon  things  merely  of  a 
suspicious  nature,  which,  like  the  charge  brought  forward  by 
the  Jews,  bore  the  stamp  of  falsehood  upon  its  front.  "  Of 
thyself,"  the  Saviour  intended  to  say,  "  thou  dost  not  surely 
speak  thus,  since,  being  in  possession  of  intelligence  respecting 
my  conduct,  thou  art  doubtless  sufficiently  convinced  of  the 
absurdity  of  the  Jewish  accusation.  But  how  does  it  consist 
with  the  dignity  of  thy  office,  that  thou  condescendest  to  treat 
such  a  groundless  charge,  in  such  a  serious  manner  ?" 

There  is  also  a  profounder  meaning  in  our  Lord's  words, 
which  may  be  expressed  as  follows:  "Is  it  of  importance  to 
thee — and  such  it  ought  to  be — to  inquire,  whether,  and  in  what 
sense  I  am  a  king ;  or  was  the  impulse  to  thy  question  given 
thee  by  the  language  of  others?"      Had  Pilate  been  able  to 


CHRIST   A   KI1STG.  247 

answer  the  first  in  the  affirmative,  that  hour  would  have  been  to 
him  a  time  of  sternal  salvation.  But  his  answer  was  not  of  a 
kind  to  induce  the  Saviour  to  initiate  him  more  deeply  into  the 
mysteries  of  his  kingdom.    ' 

Our  Lord's  question  is  still  put  in  a  certain  sense  to  all.  It 
is  of  the  highest  importance,  whether  as  inquirers,  we  approach 
the  kingdom  of  truth  by  impulse  from  without,  or  from  a  feeling 
of  inward  necessity.  Thousands  ask,  "Who  is  Christ?"  only 
because  they  wish  to  know  whether  this  or  that  divine  teaches 
correctly  and  scripturally  respecting  him  and  his  cause.  People 
of  this  description  may  attain  to  a  degree  of  mastery  in  the 
knowledge  of  divine  things ;  but  this  kind  of  wisdom,  however 
comprehensive  it  may  be,  will  never  produce  peace  and  salvation. 
Those,  on  the  contrary,  who  approach  the  Lord  and  his  word 
from  an  inward  impulse,  and  for  the  sake  of  their  soul's  welfare, 
will  behold  "the  King  in  his  Beauty,"  and  find  unsealed  the 
mystery  of  godliness. 

The  governor  has  not  wholly  misunderstood  the  Lord's  words, 
even  in  their  profounder  meaning,  and  clearly  perceives  that 
Jesus  seeks  to  make  an  impression  upon  him,  and  to  incite  him 
to  be  serious  with  regard  to  the  question  concerning  his  kingdom. 
But  scarcely  does  he  perceive  our  Lord's  intention  than  he 
adroitly  evades  it,  and  says,  with  a  degree  of  harshness,  which 
makes  it  clearly  appear  that  he  is  struggling  against  the  idea  of 
coming  into  closer  contact  with  the  mysterious  personage  before 
him,  "Am  I  a  Jew?  Thine  own  nation  and  the  chief  priests 
have  '  delivered  thee  unto  me.  What  hast  thou  done  ?"  We 
see  how  purposely  he  tries  to  liberate  himself  from  him,  as 
though  he  feared  lest  the  awe-inspiring  influence  which  the 
deportment  of  Jesus  exercised  over  him,  might  become  stronger, 
and  in  the  end  overpowering.  "Am  I  a  Jew?"  he  asks,  and 
thereby  means  to  say,  "Canst  thou  expect  me  to  have  any 
I  to  the  question  whether  thou  art  really  the  promised 
ah  or  not?  What  have  we  citizens  of  Home  to  do  with 
the  hopes  of  the  Jews?" 

Observe  here  how  Pilate  is  the  inventor  of  the  oft-repeated 
artifice  of  infidels — that  of  regarding  both  the  Old  and  New 
Testament  only  as  Oriental  literature.     They  are  anxious  to  ex- 


248  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

cuse  their  estrangement  from  Christianity  on  the  ground  which 
Pilate  takes,  of  not  being  a  Jew.  It  is  a  current  saying  with 
such  people,  "Every  nation  has  its  own  sphere  of  religious 
ideas ;  and  hence  what  responds  to  fhe  peculiarity  of  one  nation, 
is  not,  on  that  account,  for  all."  The  prophets — nay,  even  the 
Lord  himself  and  his  apostles,  are  treated  just  like  the  sages  of 
Grecian  antiquity,  or  the  Saphis  of  Persia,  and  the  Brahmins  of 
India.  There,  as  here,  men  investigate  under  the  pretense  of 
retaining  what  is  good.  But  the  idea  of  belonging  to  any  par- 
ticular religion,  like  that  of  Palestine,  as  if  it  were  the  universal 
religion,  they  reject.  What  blindness!  Is  the  sun  a  particu- 
lar light,  and  of  no  use  to  the  north,  because  it  rises  in  the  east  ? 

Our  Lord  easily  perceives  how  little  inclined  the  governor  is 
to  lend  his  ear  to  deeper  explanations,  and,  therefore,  he  con- 
fines himself  to  the  placing  the  charge  made  by  the  Jews  in  its 
proper  light.  "My  kingdom,"  says  he,  "is  not  of  tins  world. 
If  my  kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would  my  servants 
fight,  that  I  should-  not  be  delivered  to  the  Jews ;  but  now  is 
my  kingdom  not  from  hence."  How  simple,  and  yet  how  strik- 
ing are  these  words  !  How  they  overthrow  the  absurd  accusa- 
tion that  his  intention  was  to  subvert  the  government!  But 
do  not  leave  unobserved  how  carefully  he  selects  his  words, 
while  thus  defending  himself,  lest  he  should  infringe  upon  the 
truth  even  by  a  mere  omission.  He  does  not  deny  that  he  came 
to  establish  a  kingdom,  and  expressly  calls  it  his  kingdom ;  he 
only  repels  the  groundless  suspicion  of  his  having  intended  to 
overturn  the  existing  authorities,  and  to  establish  a  new  politi- 
cal state.  "Had  this  been  my  intention,"  says  he,  "then 
would  my  servants  fight,  that  I  should  not  be  delivered  to  the 
Jews."  He  does  not,  however,  say  that  his  kingdom  makes  no 
claim  eventually  to  the  government  of  the  whole  world,  or  he 
would  have  denied  more  than  was  consistent  with  truth.  He 
only  asserts  that  his  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world,  and  clearly 
intimates,  by  laying  the  emphasis  on  the  word  "this,"  that 
another  aeon  than  the  present  would  certainly  see  his  delegates 
seated  on  the  thrones,  and  his  word  and  G-ospel  the  magna  charta 
of  all  nations.  It  is  particularly  to  be  observed  that  in  the 
sentence,    "Now  is  my  kingdom  not  from  hence,"  the  word 


CIIRIST   A   KING.  249 

"  now,"  evidently  refers  to  a  period  in  which  his  kingdom  should 
occupy  a  very  different  position  than  it  did  at  that  time. 

Pilate  listens  with  astonishment  and  with  a  degree  of  uneasi- 

to  our  Lord's  speech,  and  then  affected  by  a  reverential  im- 

ion  respecting  the  person  of  the  accused,  he  says,  "  Art  thou 
a  king  then  ?"  One  mi^jht  have  thought  he  would  have  said, 
"  I  clearly  see  that  thou  art  not  a  king."  But  it  would  appear 
that  the  idea  became  increasingly  strong  in  him  that  this  Jesus 
was  really  a  king,  although  in  a  different  sense  from  what  the 
Jews  declared  he  pretended  to  be.  But  the  case  is  similar  with 
regard  to  many  in  the  present  day.  These  people  are  still 
capable  of  a  slight  consciousness  of  a  superior  nature,  and  of  an 
elevation  of  spirit  into  the  regions  above  the  senses,  although 
they  continue  in  their  unbelief,  and  are  never  clear  in  their  own 
minds  about  the  person  of  Christ.  Though  they  were  to  say  a 
hundred  times,  with  apparent  conviction,  that  Jesus  was  nothing 
more  than  a  man,  yet  it  only  requires  that  the  Gospel,  with  its 
sacred  imagery,  be  once  expanded  before  them,  and  they  are  no 
longer  abl§  to  utter  the  words  with  the  same  confidence.  An 
obscure  feeling  which  pervades  their  minds  objects  to  it ;  and  in 
the  bottom  of  their  soul  the  question  of  Pilate  again  is  heard, 
"Art  thou  a  king  then?"  And  when,  notwithstanding,  they 
try  to  defend  the  bulwark  of  their  unbelief,  nothing  is  left  them 
but  by  constraint  to  belie  the  voice  of  truth  within  them,  which 
thousands,  alas !  do,  because  a  recognition  of  Christ  as  a  king 
would  cost  them  the  delight  they  experience  in  the  service  of  the 
world  and  sin. 

I  here  call  to  mind  a  well-known  learned  man  of  Saxony, 

fter  having  all  his  life  long  attacked  Jesus  and  his  Gospel 
with  all  the  weapons  of  sophistry,  was  in  Ins  old  days  partially 
deprived  of  his  reason,   chiefly  through  the  fear  of  death,  and 

ntly  fell  into  religious  paroxysms  of  a  peculiar  nature. 
He  was  almost  daily  observed  conversing  with  himself  while 
pacing  to  and  fro  in  his  chamber,  on  one  of  the  walls  of  which, 
between  other  pictures,  hung  one  of  the  Saviour.  Repeatedly 
he  halted  before  the  latter,  and  said  to  it,  in  a  horrifying  tone  of 
voice,  "After  all,  thou  wast  only  a  man!"  Then,  after  a  short 
pause,  he  wc  uld  continue,  "  What,  wast  thou  more  than  a  man  ? 

11* 


250  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Ought  I  to  worship  thee?  No,  I  will  not  worship  thee,  for 
thou  art  only  Rabbi  Jesus,  Joseph's  son  of  Nazareth."  Utter- 
ing these  words,  he  would  turn  his  back  upon  the  picture ;  but 
immediately  afterward  he  would  return  with  a  deeply  affected 
•  countenance,  and  exclaim,  "  What  dost  thou  say  ? — That  thoi 
comest  from  above  ?  How  terribly  thou  eyest  me  !  0  thou  art 
dreadful !  But — thou  art  only  a  man  after  all."  Then  he  would 
again  rush  away,  but  soon  return  with  faltering  step,  crying  out, 
M  What,  art  thou  in  reality  the  Son  of  God  ?"  In  this  way  the 
same  scenes  were  daily  renewed,  till  the  unhappy  man,  struck 
by  paralysis,  dropped  down  dead,  and  then  really  stood  before 
his  Judge,  who,  even  in  his  picture,  had  so  strikingly  and  over- 
poweringly  judged  him.  Tradition  relates  also,  respecting  the 
man  whom  we  have  heard  asking,  under  such  peculiar  excite- 
ment, "Art  thou  a  king  then?"  that,  being  exiled,  he  died  as 
a  lunatic  at  Lyons.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  remains  true  that  there 
is  nothing  more  dangerous  than  obstinately  to  resist  the  Spirit  of 
Truth  when  he  performs  his  witnessing,  warning,  and  reproving 
office  in  us.  , 

What  answer  does  the  Lord  Jesus  make  to  Pilate's  question  ? 
"  Thou  sayest  it,  I  am  a  king.  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for 
this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness 
unto  the  truth.  Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my 
voice."  He  is,  therefore,  a  king.  He  boldly  asserts  it  himself. 
Not  for  a  moment  did  the  shame  and  suffering  he  was  enduring 
succeed  in  obscuring  in  him  the  consciousness  of  his  superhuman 
dignity  and  majest}^  May  you  who  are  our  brethren  in  the 
Lord,  in  the  midst  of  the  weakness  of  the  flesh,  and  the  various 
afflictions  through  which  you  have  to  pass,  never  wholly  lose  the 
divine  consciousness  of  your  adoption.  Christ  is  a  king;  you 
are,  therefore,  not  in  error  who  wear  his  uniform,  and  have 
trusted  your  life  and  destiny  to  his  hands.  You  are  perfectly 
justified,  not  only  in  speaking  of  Christ's  kingdom,  but  also  in 
bidding  adieu  to  the  last  doubt  of  its  final  victory  and  eventual 
sway  over  the  world,  although  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world, 
or,  as  he  majestically  expresses  himself,  like  one  looking  down 
from  the  heights  of  heaven  upon  the  earth,  "  Now  is  my  king- 
dom not  from  hence" — that  is,  hath  no  earthly  origin. 


cmusT  A  KING.  251 

Christ  is  a  king.  "To  this  end,"  says  he,  "was  I  born,  and 
for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness 
of  the  truth."  Two  objects  are  mentioned  here;  the  first  has 
reference  to  his  royalty,  by  which  he  asserts  that  he  was  no 
adventurer,  but  was  born  a  king,  such  as  the  wise  men  from  the 
east  correctly  honored  when  they  hailed  him  as  the  new-born 
king  of  the  Jews.  The  second  has  reference  to  his  bearing  wit- 
ness. In  the  words,  "  I  was  born,"  he  indicates  his  incarnation. 
But,  lest  Pilate,  or  any  one  else,  should  erroneously  suppose  that 
Jesus  included  his  whole  origin  in  these  words,  he  adds,  "  I  came 
into  the  world;"  thereby  intimating  his  heavenly  descent,  and 
his  existence  before  he  appeared  in  the  flesh — yea,  before  the 
world  was.  We  ought  highly  to  esteem  such  testimonies  of  his 
eternal  and  divine  nature  from  his  own  lips.  Their  value  is 
increased  in  an  age  like  the  present  which  is  so  full  of  skepticism, 
and  which  so  boldly  dares  to  stamp  the  Lord  Christ  as  a  mere 
man.  Had  this  really  been  the  case,  there  would  at  onee  be  an 
end  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  nothing  would  be  left  us  but 
to  close  our  churches  and  bury  all  our  hopes,  because  the  latter 
rest  wholly  on  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ  as  upon  their  essential 
basis.  Let  us,  therefore,  cleave  firmly  to  this  doctrine,  seeing 
that  it  is  clearly  and  fully  asserted  in  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
especially  at  a  time  when,  to  use  the  language  of  the  apostle 
Peter,  there  are  many  "false  teachers  who  privily  bring  in 
damnable  heresies,  even  denying  the  Lord  that  bought  them, 
and  bring  upon  themselves  swift  destruction." 

It  is  pleasing  to  observe  how  the  Lord,  out  of  consideration 
for  the  governor,  imperceptibly  leads  him  from  his  kingly  office 
to  the  circumstance  of  his  bearing  witness,  and  to  the  truth  as 
its  object.  He  hopes,  by  so  doing,  to  touch  the  string  which 
would  be  the  first  to  reverberate  at  the  sound  of  the  Gospel. 
The  perverted  Roman  was  also  an  inquirer  after  truth,  for  this 
question  belonged  to  the  Grecian  subjects  of  study  which  the 
Romans  had  also  taken  up,  although  in  other  respects  more 
intent  upon  war  than  any  other  pursuit.  A  seeking  after  truth 
s  to  human  nature,  and  is  wont  to  be  the  last  feature  of  it 
{hat  perishes.  Some  one  well  observes  here,  that  "Jesus  lays 
hold  of  Pilate  by  the  only  topic  by  which  he  could  make  an  im- 


252  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

pression  on  him."  Thus  carefully  does  the  Lord  proceed  in  the 
exercise  of  his  pastoral  office,  while  taking  into  account  the 
particular  inward  state  of  every  individual  whom  he  strives  to  save. 

Christ,  however,  did  not  come  into  the  world  to  join  himself 
to  the  seekers  after  truth  as  their  confederate,  but  rather  to  lead 
them  on  to  the  aim  they  were  in  search  of,  and  thus  bring  them 
to  the  Sabbath  of  repose.  He  did  not  come,  as  some  think,  to 
bring  down  truth  from  heaven  to  earth,  but,  as  he  himself  says, 
"to  bear  witness  of  the  truth."  Truth  already  existed,  inter- 
woven in  the  history  of  Israel,  and  clothed  in  the  inspired 
language  of  Moses  and  the  Prophets.  Christ  only  bore  witness 
to  it,  and  confirmed  it  in  the  most  comprehensive  manner,  accom- 
plishing prophecy  in  himself,  and  presenting,  in  his  own  person, 
the  realization  of  the  law's  fulfillment.  In  his  whole  conduct  he 
exhibits  to  the  world  the  divine  origin  of  the  law,  and,  in  the 
events  of  his  life,  that  of  prophecy.  He  bore  witness  of  the 
truth,  inasmuch  as  in  his  own  person,  while  casting  down  all 
that  is  false,  he  was  able  to  display  it,  in  all  its  splendor,  in  the 
face  of  heaven,  earth,  and  helL  He  who  looked  upon  Jesus,  if 
the  eye  of  his  mind  were  not  entirely  blinded,  saw  in  him  the 
actual  solution  of  the  most  important  questions  which  can  arise 
in  the  mind  of  man.  He  no  longer  needed  to  be  told  what  was 
to  be  regarded,  held,  and  believed  of  God  and  the  world, 
heaven  and  earth,  virtue  and  sin,  and  of  man's  vocation  and 
his  future  state.  He  knew  it  all,  and  that  with  the  utmost 
certainty. 

But  how  was  it  that  the  Lord,  who  never  abruptly  passed  from 
one  idea  to  another,  connected  his  witnessing  for  the  truth  with 
his  kingdom  and  dominion  ?  Did  he  mean  to  say  that  his  king- 
dom was  only  a  sphere  of  tuition,  and  he  in  so  far  only  a  king, 
as  he  was  able  to  reign  over  the  minds  of  men  by  his  teaching  ? 
By  no  means.  We  have  already  observed  that  he  was  far  from 
placing  his  regal  power  and  dignity  in  the  fact  of  his  bearing 
witness  to  the  truth.  He  does  not  bear  such  witness  as  a  king, 
but  as  a  prophet;  and  points  out  the  way  in  which  he  will 
establish  his  kingdom,  which  he  intimates  in  the  words,  "He 
that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my  voice."  Yes,  those  who  hear  his 
voice  are  the  citizens  of  his  kingdom. 


v     CHRIST   A   KING.  253 

The  expression,  "  every  one  that  is  of  the  truth,"  betokens  an 
toward  preparation  for  conversion,  which  no  one,  however,  expe- 
g  without  the  operation  of  "  preventing  grace."  No  one 
is  by  nature  of  the  truth;  but  all  men,  as  the  Scriptures  say, 
are  liars,  since  they  love  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  the 
light  reproves  them  for  their  sins,  and  disturbs  their  repose ;  and 
because  they  press  error  to  their  bosoms,  and  shut  themselves 
up  against  the  entrance  of  truth,  which  menaces  their  sensual 
pleasures  with  danger,  and  urges  them  to  a  life  of  self-denial. 
Thus,  as  St.  Paul  once  expressed  it,  they  "hold  the  truth  in 
unrighteousness."  But  as  soon  as  the  Spirit,  which,  like  the 
wind,  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  gains  room,  the  love  of  delusion 
gives  way  to  the  ardent  desire  to  be  freed  from  it,  and  studious 
self-deception  to  the  willingness  to  "  prove  all  things,  and  to  hold 
fast  that  which  is  good."  Before  the  honest,  serious  inquiry 
after  truth  and  peace,  the  visionary  forms  of  those  false  ideas 
vanish,  to  which  the  poor  soul  had  been  previously  attached. 
But  when,  by  the  operation  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  we  have 
attained  to  this  simplicity  of  heart,  we  become  joined  to  those 
who  are  of  the  truth.  Then,  if  the  Divine  Teacher  utters  his 
voice,  how  does  our  inmost  soul  echo  to  the  sound  of  his 
light  and  life-giving  words.  If  he  then  says,  "  Come  unto  me, 
ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,"  how  gladly  do  we  accept 
the  gracious  invitation  !  If  he  then  unvails  his  glory  and  beauty, 
how  do  our  longing  souls  rush  into  his#arms  rejoicing!  If  he 
then  displays  the  standard  of  Ins  cross,  how  do  we  not  hasten  to 
it,  to  build  tabernacles  under  its  peaceful  shadow  ! 

0  my  dear  readers,  were  you  all  of  the  truth,  what  a  blessed 
thing  it  would  be  to  write  to  and  address  you,  and  what  an  in- 
crease would  the  kingdom  of  God  among  us  have  to  rejoice 
over !  Then  could  I  say  with  his  beloved  disciple,  in  writing 
to  "  the  elect  lady,"  "  I  rejoiced  greatly  when  I  found  certain 
of  thy  children  walking  in  the  truth ;"  and  to  his  beloved  Gaius, 
u  I  have  no  greater  joy  than  to  hear  that  my  children  walk  in 
the  truth."  But  it  happens  to  thousands  as  it  did  to  poor 
Pilate,  whose  ear  was  beginning  to  open  to  divine  truth,  but 
was  soon  closed  again  by  the  objections  of  carnal  reason  and  the 
predominating  influence  of  temporal  things.     Therefore,  let  us  not 


254  THE    HOLY    PLACE. 

cease,  dear  readers,  to  call  upon  the  King  of  Truth  to  do  violence 
to  us,  and  not  leave  us  till  he  has  attuned  the  choi  ds  of  our  soul 
in  such  a  manner  that  his  word  may  find  a  full  and  abiding  echo 
in  us.  Let  us  entreat,  above  all  things,  the  hearing  ear,  the  un- 
derstanding, believing,  child-like,  and  simple  heart,  and  plead 
his  gracious  promise  to  guide  the  meek  in  judgment,  and  to 
teach  the  humble  his  way. 


XXIX. 

"WHAT    IS    TRUTH?" 

In  the  whole  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  Scriptures,  with 
the  exception  of  the  words  prefixed  to  our  present  meditation, 
we  do  not  find  a  single  passage  which  sounds  any  thing  like  the 
complaining  inquiry  which  so  often  reaches  our  ears:  "Who 
will  give  us  fight,  and  solve  the  dark  problem  of  human  life  ?" 
On  the  contrary  we  every  where  meet  with  the  presupposed 
fact  that  truth  has  not  first  to  be  sought,  but  has  long  since 
been  bestowed  upon  man.  The  different  relations  in  which  the 
pious  and  the  impious  stand  to  it  are  not  those  of  belief  and  doubt, 
but  of  a  willing  submiaiion  and  a  wicked  resistance  to  it.  The 
words  in  Deut.  xxix.  29 — "The  secret  things  belong  unto  the 
Lord  our  God,  but  those  things  which  are  revealed  belong  unto 
us  and  to  our  children  forever," — stand  immutably  firm  for  all. 
He  that  would  render  it  dubious  whether  G-od  had  ever  spoken 
to  the  sojourners  upon  the  earth,  would  have  seemed  to  the 
Israelites  like  one  who  should  doubt  at  noon-day  whether  the 
sun  stood  in  the  firmament.  The  complaint  of  a  want  of  cer- 
tainty with  respect  to  that  which  is  above  the  senses  is  a  folly 
of  modern  date,  and  a  relic  of  heathenism.  It  is  a  question 
long  since  infallibly  answered,  both  as  regards  the  origin  and 
object  of  created  things,  and  the  calling  and  destiny  of  the 
human  race;  and  the  cheering  fact  that  it  is  so  is  testified  by 
the  words  of  Moses  we  quoted  above.     Those  things  which  are  re- 


"what  is  truth?"  255 

led  belong  unto  us  and  our  children  forever.  But  when,  by 
the  Holy  Spirit,  he  states,  that  "  the  secret  things  belong  unto 
the  Lord  our  God,"  he  intends  we  should  understand  that  the 
truth  is  only  revealed  to  us  to  the  extent  of  our  capacities,  and 
r  as  is  necessary  for  our  salvation.  This  conviction  greatly 
tranquilizes  us,  in  the  face  of  so  many  unsolved  enigmas  which 
meet  us  in  the  doctrines  of  faith  which  are  preached  to  us. 
When,  for  instance,  our  attention  is  directed  to  the  doctrine  of 
God's  eternal  existence,  of  the  Trinity,  the  creation  of  the  world, 
the  fall  of  the  angels  and  of  man,  the  twofold  nature  in  Christ, 
the  final  consummation  of  all  things,  etc.,  we  rack  our  reason  in 
vain,  and  our  hearts  and  minds  are  distressed  by  their  incom- 
prehensibility, we  ought  then  to  say,  in  the  words  of  revelation, 
"Secret  things  belong  to  the  Lord  our  God."  He  has  only 
partially  revealed  these  things  to  us,  but  that  which  we  do  know 
abundantly  suffices  for  the  attainment  of  the  great  object  of  our 
salvation.  We  know  now  in  part  what  we  shall  hereafter  know 
perfectly.  For  that  period  we  patiently  wait,  and  feel  assured, 
that  when  it  shall  have  dawned  upon  us  with  its  all-pervading 
and  enlightening  radiance,  doubt  and  darkness  will  be  forever 
dispelled,  and  give  place  to  never-ending  and  admiring  adora- 
tion. 

These  brief  observations  may  serve  as  an  introduction  to  our 
present  meditation,  by  which  may  the  Lord  be  pleased  to  estab- 
lish us  in  the  conviction  that  He  himself  is  the  Truth,  as  well 
as  the  Way  and  the  Life ! 

u  He  that  is  of  the  truth,"  said  our  Lord  at  the  conclusion  of 
his  reply,  "  heareth  my  voice."  Pilate  then  said  unto  him, 
"What  is  truth?"  Some  have  found  in  these  words  a  gentle 
Bneer ;  others  the  expression  of  a  complete  indifference  to  re- 
ligion. But  neither  of  these  explanations  fully  accord  with  the- 
man's  character.  The  words  are  more  profound  and  important. 
They  shed  light  upon  an  entire  age,  and  upon  the  inmost  state 
of  mind  of  thousands  of  its  children. 

We  have  already  observed  that  Pilate  lived  in  days  which 
might  be  designated  as  those  of  the  mature  education  of  man- 
kind, so  far  as  we  understand  by  that  expression,  intellectual  and 
Iral  culture,  to  which  the  children  of  Adam,  left  to  themselves, 


256  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

and  by  the  exercise  of  their  own  natural  powers  and  abilities, 
are  able  to  attain.  Not  only  had  art  reached  its  highest  per- 
fection, but  philosophy  was  also  at  the  summit  of  its  boldest  in- 
vestigations ;  and  even  to  the  present  day  we  admire  the  systems 
which,  by  the  effort  of  highly  gifted  reasoning  powers,  they 
called  into  existence.  But  still  there  was  no  satisfactory  basis 
for  them  to  rest  upon.  Although  the  human  mind  had  brought 
to  light  much  that  was  probable,  yet  any  thing  certain  and  in- 
fallible was  sought  for  in  vain.  Even  the  greatest  of  all  the 
sages  of  antiquity  confessed  that  only  if  a  Grod  were  to  descend 
from  heaven  would  it  be  possible  for  men  to  attain  to  that  which 
was  sure.  Nay,  the  saying  became  common-place,  that  only  one 
thing  was  certain,  which  was,  that  we  could  know  nothing  of 
things  above  the  reach  of  the  senses,  and  even  this  was  not  en- 
tirely certain. 

Such  were  the  views  which  first  gave  rise  in  Greece  to  that 
frivolous  philosophy  of  life  which,  renouncing  every  thing  of  a 
superior  and  supersensible  nature,  placed  the  whole  destiny  of 
man  in  the  enjoyment  of  this  world  and  its  pleasures,  and  which, 
in  a  short  time,  with  all  its  attendant  excesses  and  vices,  be- 
came the  religion  of  the  great  mass  of  the  population.  In  the 
.Roman  empire,  a  certain  moral  discipline  was  preserved  some- 
what longer  than  in  Greece.  But  after  the  Eomans  had  sub- 
jugated the  latter  to  their  sway,  those  who  had  thus  become 
their  subjects,  soared  above  their  conquerors  in  an  intellectual 
and  social  point  of  view,  and  bequeathed  to  them,  along  with 
their  unbelief,  their  frivolity  and  their  sins.  In  the  higher 
circles,  the  traditionary  belief  in  a  number  of  deities  was  not 
only  laid  aside,  but  ridiculed  as  worthless  and  visionary ;  and 
thus  the  celebrated  Roman  orator,  Cicero,  made  himself  sure  of 
the  applause  of  his  hearers,  when,  addressing  an  assembly  of 
the  people,  he  alluded  to  the  punishments  of  the  lower  world 
only  in  an  ironical  manner.  Scarcely  any  one  any  longer  be- 
lieved in  Orcus,  and  its  shades  and  horrors ;  and  just  as  little 
faith  did  they  place  in  the  systems  of  the  philosophers.  In 
short,  they  believed  nothing ;  yet  still  the  negation  of  the  head 
was  by  no  means  able  to  silence  the  cry  for  light  and  peace  from 
the  hearts  of  thousands. 


"what  is  truth?"  257 

Pilate  stands  before  us  as  the  true  representative  of  the  social 
culture  of  his  age.  Though  we  must  not  take  it  for  granted 
that  he  ever  deeply  studied  the  various  systems  of  philosophy, 
yet,  like  others  of  his  own  rank,  he  was  doubtless  acquainted 
with  the  essential  results  of  philosophical  investigation,  while 
tcrthe  literature  of  his  age  he  was  doubtless  no  stranger.  This 
man's  path  through  life  brought  him  into  contact  with  the  Lord 
from  heaven,  and  thus  placed  him  in  a  spiritual  atmosphere,  in 
which  feelings  and  presentiments  again  awoke  in  him  which 
seemed  to  have  been  long  stifled  by  the  breath  of  the  frivolous 
culture  of  the  age,  which  he  had  imbibed  with  his  mother's  milk. 
Christ,  whose  very  appearance  produced  a  strange  effect  upon 
this  heathen,  speaks  to  him  of  another  world,  of  a  heavenly 
kingdom,  and  finally  of  a  truth  which  had  appeared,  and  which, 
therefore,  might  be  really  found  and  known.  Pilate  then  breaks 
out  into  the  remarkable  words,  "  What  is  truth  ?"  The  polished 
heathen  of  that  age,  and  one  of  the  better  kind  of  them,  displays 
to  us  by  this  question  his  inward  state.  Something  of  free- 
thinking  frivolity  certainly  strikes  us  in  this  question  on  the 
outset,  which  causes  the  inquirer  to  smile,  not  only  at  the 
popular  belief  in  idols,  but,  generally  speaking,  in  every  thing 
which  had  reference  to  the  sphere  of  religious  ideas,  as  nothing 
•  but  childish  dreams  and  fantastic*  delusions.  "What  is  truth?" 
was  at  that  time  the  language  of  thousands:  "That  which  wo 
see  with  our  eyes,  and  feel  with  our  hands,  is  the  only  thing 
that  is  certain  under  heaven.  No  mortal  eye  sees  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  region  of  the   senses;  and  though  the  plea  of  a 

I  tic  imagination  may  be  able  to  satisfy  those  upon  one  stage 
ife  and  culture,  it  can  not  satisfy  all." 
n  Pilate's  question,  we  may  further  perceive  the  skeptical 
losopher  of  rank,  who  is  not  only  aware  that  the  researches 
human  thought  lead  to  the  most  diversified  and  opposite 
llts;  but  who  also  cherishes  the  idea  that  he  has  himself  re- 
flected and  ruminated  upon  the  labors  of  the  wise  of  this  world, 
and  that  by  his  own  reasoning  upon  them,  he  has  arrived  at  the 
conviction  that  nothing  can  be  known  or  ascertained  of  things 
which  lie  beyond  the  bounds  of  visibility.  "What  is  truth?" 
he  exclaims — "  One  man  calls  this  truth,  another  that,  which  is 


258  THE  HOLT  PLACE. 

perhaps  even  something  quite  the  opposite.  Systems  rise  and 
fall.  The  man  who  seeks  for  truth,  sails  upon  a  sea  without  a 
haven  or  a  landing-place." 

In  Pilate's  question  is  also  apparent  the  boundless  pride  of 
the  Eoman  citizen,  who,  as  respects  enlightenment  and  culture, 
thinks  himself  far  above  all  the'  other  nations  of  the  earth,  and 
the  Jews  in  particular.  Pilate  utters  his  inquiry  with  a  degree 
of  inward,  though  transient  excitement,  as  if  he  would  say, 
"  Thou,  a  Hebrew  rabbi,  wilt  surely  not  think  that  I,  a  Roman 
patrician,  am  going  to  seek  instruction  from  thee?"  The  per- 
vading tone  of  Pilate's  question  is,  however,  of  a  better  kind, 
and  is  only  slightly  tinged  with  the  discords  hitherto  mentioned. 
It  breathes  of  melancholy,  dejection,  and  even  the  silent  despair 
of  a  heart,  which,  with  the  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  world 
above  the  stars,  can  not  throw  away  the  wish  and  the  feeling  of 
necessity  for  such  a  world.  The  soul  of  Pilate  finds  itself  un- 
happy and  desolate  in  the  dreary  waste  of  absolute  unbelief,  into 
which  it  is  banished. 

Were  we  to  elucidate  the  governor's  question,  and  explain  it 
as  proceeding  from  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  soul,  it  would 
probably  imply  what  follows :  "  Thou  speakest  of  truth,  alas ! 
Truth  was  never  given  to  a  poor  mortal  to  be  the  companion  of 
his  steps.  We  inquire  after  it,' but  echo,  as  if  in  ridicule  of  our 
anxious  desire,  only  returns  our  question  back  to  us.  We 
plant  the  ladder  of  investigating  cogitation,  but  its  steps  only 
lead  us  into  impenetrable  mists.  Not  a  single  truth  has  re- 
warded the  many  thousand  years'  research  of  philosophic  thought, 
and  yet  thou,  Man  of  Nazareth,  speakest  of  truth,  as  of  a  resid- 
ent on  the  gloomy  earth!  Death  has  been  silent  from  the 
first ;  the  grave  below  is  silent,  as  well  as  the  stars  above ;  and 
dost  thou  wish  to  be  regarded  as  having  loosed  their  tongues  and 
unsealed  their  mysteries  ?"  In  Pilate  there  was  doubtless  some- 
thing of  the  proud  philosopher,  something  of  worn-out  indiffer- 
ence, something  of  the  professed  skeptic,  something  of  the  frivolous 
free-thinker  and  scoffer,  and  something  of  the  hasty,  jealous,  and 
haughty  blusterer,  who,  with  his  inquiry,  "  What  is  truth  ?" 
also  meant  to  say,  "  How  could  you  venture  to  trouble  me  with 
youl  Jewish  matters  of  faith,  who  have  things  of  greater  import- 


"what  is  truth?" 


259 


ice  to  think  of?"  But  still  there  is  something  beside  this — 
Rnethiug  betfcer  and  nobler — an  unperverted  inquiring  mind — 
longing  for  deliverance,  but  bound  down,  alas!  by  the  impure 
id  gloomy  elements,  which  enthrall  him,  so  that  he  can  not  act 

it  liberty. 

As  often  as  this  question  of  Pilate's  occurs  to  me,  it  appears 

me  as  if  it  had  not  been  asked  eighteen  centuries  ago,  but  as 

uttered  in  the  present  day — nay,  it  even  seems  to  sound  in 

ly  ears  as  proceeding  from  my  immediate  vicinity.     It  strikingly 

idicates  many  philosophers  of  our  own  times,  and  the  so-called 

height,"   which    modern    intellectual  refinement  has  reached; 

>nly  that  the  question,  in  the  mouths  of  our  cotemporaries, 
Hinds  infinitely  more  culpable  than  from  the  lips  of  the 
lOman,  whose  eyes  had  not  seen  what  we  have  ;  for  at  that  time 

resus  was  not  glorified,  nor  his  Spirit  poured  out  from  on  high, 

lor  the  world  subdued  by  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  nor  the 
rondrous  edifice  of  the  Church  of  Christ  established.  But  after 
this  has  taken  place,  for  a  man  to  step  back  again  to  the 
)sition  of  Pilate,  a  mere  heathen,  is  something  no  longer  human 

)ut  devilish.  An  infernal  spark  now  burns  in  skepticism;  and 
ie  dubiousness  of  the  Roman,  compared  with  the  unbelief  of 

>ur  baptized  heathens,  is  almost  like  an  innocent  lamb  contrasted 

ith  a  wily  serpent.      Unbelief  is  now  no  longer  the  blind 

ltling  of  a  heart  insnared  and  deluded  by  the  spirit  of  this 

rorld ;  but  the  light-shunning  offspring  of  a  wicked  and  rebel- 

ious  will.     We  feel  a  degree  of  pity  and  compassion  for  Pilate, 

)ut  for  infidels  of  the  present  day,   nothing  is  left  them  but 
ie  fate  of  those  who  refuse  to  come  to  Christ,  that  they  may 
tve  life,  to  whom  is  reserved  "  the  blackness  of  darkness  for- 
mer." 
"What  is  truth?"     It  is  soon  found,  when  earnestly  sought. 

?here  are  many,  who  inquire  respecting  certain  truths,  but 
tudiously  turn  their  backs  upon  the  truth '  of  the  Gospel, 
rherever  it  meets  them.     They  would  be  glad  to  see  solved  a 

lumber  of  problems  in  nature  and  in  human  life ;  but  all  their 
^search  is  a  mere  effort  of  the  imagination,  and  the  interest 
ley  take  in  it  only  vain  curiosity.     They  take  part  in  discus- 

iions  respecting  the  creation  of  the  world,  existence  after  death, 


260  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

and  the  kind  of  life  beyond  the  grave.  But  they  shun  the  truth 
as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and  seek  in  a  variety  of  ways  to  avoid  and 
evade  it.  Dost  thou  still  ask  if  truth  really  exists  ?  I  tell  thee, 
it  is  in  thy  heart  and  in  thy  mouth,  and  thy  hands  lay  hold  of 
it.  Are  not  these  truths,  that  thou  existest,  that  thou  bearest 
indelibly  in  thy  bosom  a  consciousness  of  a  higher  destiny,  but 
that  thou  art  a  sinful  being,  removed  far  from  thy  legitimate 
aim,  and  findest,  in  thy  soul,  no  peace  which  can  stand  the  test? 
Further,  that  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  a  man  appeared  upon 
earth,  whom  no  one  could  convict  of  any  other  crime  than  that 
of  calling  himself  "the  Truth;"  and  of  having  announced  him- 
self as  the  Messiah,  who  should  eventually  subdue  the  whole 
world  to  his  spiritual  scepter;  and  that  thou,  with  all  thy 
boasted  liberty  and  independence,  art  now  experiencing  the 
consequences  of  the  fact  that  a  long  time  ago,  at  a  great 
distance,  in  a  despicable  corner  of  the  earth,  yonder  despised 
rabbi  of  an  inconsiderable  nation,  was  executed  like  a  slave; 
and  that  on  his  account,  thy  destinies,  in  all  their  relations,  are 
entirely  changed  from  what  they  would  otherwise  have  been 
— all  this  is  beyond  a  doubt ;  and  is  not  this,  therefore,  the  truth  ? 
Follow  the  clew  of  what  thou  now  acknowledgest  as  so  irre- 
futable ;  and  thou  wilt  soon  become  conscious  that  mankind  is 
guided  by  an  all-overruling  power,  and  wilt  then  be  able  to 
swear  that  a  God,  who  is  love  itself,  must  inevitably  have  re- 
vealed himself  to  his  poor  dying  creatures.  And  it  will  not  be 
long  before  thou  wilt  behold  these  revelations  beaming  in  a 
clear  light  from  the  writings  of  Moses  and  the  prophets.  Truth 
meets  thee  in  the  nomadic  tents  of  the  patriarchs  of  Israel,  as 
well  as  in  the  encampments  of  the  people  of  God,  when  wander- 
ing in  the  wilderness.  It  speaks  to  thee  in  a  voice  of  thunder 
from  Mount  Sinai,  and  in  gentler  tones,  from  the  hills  and 
valleys  of  Canaan.  Thou  nearest  her  voice  on  Bethlehem's 
plains,  in  the  harmonious  psalms  of  the  "sweet  singer  of 
Israel ;"  and  it  greets  thee  in  the  halls  of  the  temple,  in  signifi- 
cant types  and  mysterious  hieroglyphics.  Thou  approachest 
Jehovah's  seers,  and  thy  astonished  eye  looks  up  to  a  brilliant 
starry  firmament.  They  are  thoughts  of  truth,  which  shine 
upon  thee  with  such  supernatural  radiance.     Led  by  the  hand 


"what  is  truth?" 


261 


these  holy  seers,  thou  goest  forward,  and  art  greeted  at  length 
by  the  Truth  in  person.  "I  am  the  Truth,"  says  one,  every 
thing  about  whom,  points  him  out  as  more  than  human ;  and  all 
who  long  for  the  light,  are  heard  exclaiming,  "  Thou  art  H«  1" 
at  above  the  clouds  there  reigns  a  supreme  governor  of  the 
rid — who  this  Gk>d  is — what  is  his  will  with  respect  to  liis 
creatures — for  what  purpose  man  was  created — what  is  his  high 
calling  and  true  destiny — all  this  is  revealed  to  thee,  beyond 
contradiction,  in  Jesus  Christ.     In  his  manifestation,  the  depths 

I  Deity,  the  counsels  of  eternal  love,  the  abyss  of  divine  mercy, 
e  secrets  of  life  and  death,  of  heaven  and  hell  are  unfolded, 
e 


every  question — be  it  respecting  the  essence  and  marrow  of 


e  divine  law,  the  nature  of  true  virtue  and  holiness,  the  model 
of  human  nature,  or  whatever  it  may  be — he  is  himself  the 
decisive  and  personal  reply.  And  when  he  speaks  and  acts,  the 
spirits  of  doubt,  delusion,  and  falsehood  flee  away,  and  light, 
certainty,  and  confidence  approach  us  with  their  heavenly  salu- 
tion  of  "Peace  be  with  thee  I" 

Then  let  the  question  of  Pilate,  "  What  is  truth  ?"  no  longer 
heard  upon  earth.     It  can  now  only  be  asked  by  imbecility 
obstinate   self-deception   and  diabolical  hatred  of   the  light, 
th  has  made  its  entry  into  the  world,  and  dwells  confidingly 
ong  us,  accessible  to   all  who   sincerely  seek  it.      A  philos- 
ophy that  acts  as  if  it  must  first  bring  up  truth  from  the  deep, 
or  fetch  it  down  from  heaven,  will  be  punished  for  its  base  in- 
gratitude toward  the   God  of  grace,   by  being    left  to    grope 
eternally  in  the  dark,  to  grasp  at  shadows,  and  never  to  reach 
end    of   its    fruitless    investigations.     The    true    object    of 
osophy  now  would  be  to  fathom  and  exhaust  the  inmost 
iousness  of  the  human   spirit,  and,  free  from  prejudice,  to 
the  effect  upon  its  indelible  necessities  of  the  truth  which 
appeared  in  Christ.     If  this  were  done,  it  would  soon  moor 
bark,    after  its  long  aberrations,    on  the    shores   of   Mount 
n,    and  joyfully   exclaim,  "I   have   found  what  I   sought,  I 
have  reached  my  goal."     All  who  seriously  and  sincerely  in- 
quire for  truth  will  inevitably  land,  at  last,  in  the  haven  of  the 
C     Hence  the  Saviour  was  able,  with  the  greatest  confi- 
o  say,  "  He  that  is  of  the  truth,  heareth  my  voice." 


262  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Let  us  thank  and  praise  the  all-sufficient  God  for  the  unspeak- 
able gift  he  has  bestowed  upon  us.  "  Behold,  the  night  is  far 
spent,  and  the  day  is  at  hand."  The  prophetic  call  to  "  Arise 
aria"  sliinefor  thy  light  is  come,"  has  long  been  fulfilled.  May 
the  admonition  which  that  call  includes  be  responded  to  by  us, 
and  its  promise  be  experienced !  Let  us  cheerfully  make  room, 
in  our  hearts  and  minds,  for  the  Truth,  which  stands  at  our 
door,  and  let  us  walk  as  children  of  the  light  He  is  the  Truth, 
who  is  at  the  same  time  the  Way  and  the  Life.  Let  us  cast  the 
viperous  brood  of  doubts  beneath  his  feet,  that  he  may  trample  upon 
them,  and  make  him  our  all  in  all,  for  life,  death,  and  eternity. 


XXX. 

THE  LAMB   OF  GOD. 

After  his  first  conversation  with  Jesus,  Pilate  again  comes  for- 
ward into -the  open  court  before  the  people,  bringing  the  accused 
with  him.  The  governor's  inward  state  is  no  longer  unknown 
to  us.  We  are  acquainted  with  him  as  a  man  in  whom  all 
susceptibility  for  true  greatness  of  soul  was  by  no  means  extin- 
guished. A  silent  admiration  of  the  extraordinary  personage 
who  stood  before  him,  pervaded  the  whole  of  the  procedure  re- 
specting him.  The  words  he  uttered,  the  silence  he  observed, 
his  look,  and  his  whole  bearing,  his  humility,  and  then  again 
his  sublime  composure,  his  lamb-like  patience,  and  undisturbed 
self-possession — all  this  made  a  powerful  impression  upon  Pilate ; 
and  if  he  had  given  vent  to  that  which  passed  fleetingly  through 
his  mind,  he  would,  at  least  momentarily,  have  expressed  some- , 
thing  similar  to  the  testimony  given  by  the  apostle  John,  "  We 
beheld  his  glory,  a  glory  as  of  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God, 
full  of  grace  and  truth."  Yes,  even  Pilate  bore  within  his  breast 
a  mirror  for  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  from  heaven,  only  it  was, 
alas !  an  icy  mirror,  over  which  the  warm  tears  of  penitence  had 
never  flowed.  Where  the  latter  are  wanting,  the  mirror  of  the 
soul  does  not  retain  the  rays  of  the  Divine  Morning  Star,  and 


THE   LAMB   OF   GOD.  263 

jives  its  image  at  least  but  partially.  Still,  the  dignity  of 
imanuel  sbcne  too  powerfully  into  the  soul  of  the  Roman  to 
tve  him  at  liberty  to  act  toward  him  as  he  pleased.  To  a 
tain  extent^  he  had  been  inwardly  overcome  by  him.  He  is 
ipelled  to  absolve  him  from  all  criminality.  He  can  not  avoid 
iling  a  secret  reverence  for  him,  and  as  often  as  he  is  inclined 
give  way  to  selfish  suggestions  with  regard  to  Jesus,  he  is 
idemned  and  warned  by  the  voice  of  truth,  which  speaks 
ithin  him,  and  is  even  constrained  to  act  as  the  intercessor  and 
Ivocate  of  the  Just  One.  What  majesty  must  have  shone 
>und  the  Lamb  of  God,  even  while  suffering  and  ignominy 
led  over  Ms  head,  like  the  billows  of  the  ocean,  and  with 
it  wondrous  radiance  must  the  Son  of  Righteousness  have 
>ken  through  the  clouds  of  such  deep  humiliation,  as  to  be 
to  constrain  even  a  worldly-minded  epicurean  to  such  a 
*a  of  respect  1 
As  was  the  case  with  Pilate,  so  would  it  be  with  many  of  like 
itiments  in  the  present  day,  if  they  were  to  come  into  similar 
Ltact  with  Jesus.  I  have  those  in  view  who  have  long  for- 
:en  the  word  and  the  Church  of  God,  and  intoxicated  with 
inebriating  draught  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  have  given  up 
iristianity  as  no  longer  tenable,  and  have  renounced  Christ 
himself  without  previous  examination,  as  though  he  were  merely 
a  Jewish  rabbi,  fallible  like  all  other  mortals.  Far  be  it  from 
me  unconditionally  to  cast  such  people  away.  They  are  not  all 
of  them  so  wholly  immersed  in  worldliness  as  to  be  entirely  in- 
capable of  a  nobler  elevation  of  mind  and  feeling.  They  are 
only  partially  acquainted  with  him  whom  they  have  renounced, 
and  in  him  condemn  a  personage  entirely  a  stranger  to  them. 
0,  if  they  could  only  once  resolve  to  approach  nearer  to  him 
by  an  impartial  study  of  the  Gospel  history,  and  that  of  his 
Church  in  its  victorious  progress  through  tl.ie  world,  I  am  per- 
puaded  that  they  would  soon  find  it  impossible  to  continue 
indifferent  to  him  in  future,  nay,  that  before  they  were  aware, 
they  would  feel  constrained  either  to  do  homage  to  Jesus,  and 
to  give  themselves  up  to  him  with  all  their  hearts,  or  else  that 
they  would  hate  him,  as  One  whose  claim  to  rule  over  us  we 
can  not  gainsay,  but  to  whose  scepter  we  refuse  to  bow. 


264  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

Pilate  frankly  says  to  -the  chief  priests  and  all  the  people,  "  I 
find  no  fault  in  this  man;"  thereby  confirming  the  words  of  the 
apostle  Peter,  according  to  which  we  "are  not  redeemed  with 
coiTuptible  things,  such  as  silver  and  gold,  but  with  the  precious 
blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  Lamb  without  blemish  and  without  spot." 
It  certainly  manifests  great  shallowness  of  thought  and  deficiency 
of  judgment  to  say,  that  he  only  finds  no  fault  in  Jesus.  When 
the  latter  testified  that  he  was  the  Son  of  the  living  G-od,  and  the 
King  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  he  was  guilty  of  a  great  crime,  if 
his  assertions  were  false,  and  these  lofty  titles  only  assumed.  But 
if  he  was  correct  in  uttering  such  exalted  things  respecting  him- 
self, how  was  it  that  the  governor  had  nothing  better  to  say  for 
him  than  the  meager  testimony  that  he  acknowledged  him  only  to 
be  guiltless  ?  But  even  this  assurance  we  gladly  receive,  and  re- 
gard with  emotion  the  man  who  is  so  favorably  inclined  toward 
the  accused,  and  so  powerfully  affected  by  his  innocence  and 
moral  unblamableness.  Doubtless,  after  this  testimony  in  Ms 
favor,  Pilate  would  gladly  have  liberated  him  j  but  the  Jews,  the 
emperor,  his  position,  and  many  other  causes,  prevent  him  from 
doing  so.  Oh,  when  it  is  only  the  conviction  of  the  understand- 
ing, or  even  a  natural  presentiment,  in  place  of  a  heart  burdened 
with  the  guilt  of  sin,  which  connects  us  with  Jesus — the  Lord, 
when  it  comes  to  the  point,  will  never  find  an  advocate  or  in- 
tercessor who  can  be  relied  on.  Such  an  one  does  not  count  all 
things  but  loss  for  Christ.  For  conscience'  sake  he  would  will- 
ingly stand  in  the  breach  for  him  with  all  boldness ;  but  worldly 
honor,  human  favor,  domestic  and  social  peace,  and  the  like, 
exercise  over  him  a  much  more  potent  and  overpowering  influ- 
ence. Far  be  it  from  me  to  act  the  part  of  a  judge ;  but  I  am 
seriously  afraid  that  among  the  number  of  believers  in  the 
present  day,  many  may  be  found  whose  faith  is  only  like  that 
of  Pilate.  But  this  species  of  reverence  for  Jesus,  however 
much  of  what  is  true  and  beautiful  it  may  contain,  will  be  found 
on  the  great  sifting  day  only  among  the  chaff  which  the  wind 
driveth  away. 

Pilate  having  uttered  his  inmost  conviction  of  the  innocence 
of  Jesus,  the  chief  priests,  not  a  little  enraged  at  their  defeat, 
foam  out  fresh  accusations  against  the  Eighteous  One.     "They 


THE  LAMB   OF   GOD.  265 

were  the  more  fierce,"  says  the  narrative.  They  pour  out  a  flood 
of  rage  and  fury  upon  him,  and  now  the  saying  of  the  prophet 
fulfilled:  "He  was  oppressed,  and  he  was  afflicted, 
ike  a  lamb,  he  opened  not  his  mouth." 

The  most  significant  and  remarkable  type  introduced  into  the 
divine  ordinances,  as  well  as  into  Israel's  history  and  ritual,  was 
the  lamb.  It  even  meets  us  at  the  threshold  of  paradise  in  the 
sacrifice  of  Abel,  as  an  object  peculiarly  acceptable  in  the  sight 
of  God.  Later  on,  the  lamb  with  its  blood  consecrates  the  com- 
mencement of  the  history  of  the  Israelites.  The  sprinkling  of 
the  door-posts  with  the  blood  of  lambs  was  the  means  of  Israel's 
preservation  in  Egypt  from  the  sword  of  the  destroying  angel, 
and  the  departure  of  the  people  from  Pharaoh's  house  of  bondage. 
From  that  time,  the  lamb  continued  to  be  the  most  prominent 
figure  by  which  God  typified  the  future  Messiah  to  the  children 
of  Abraham.  Thenceforward  it  acquired  an  abiding  footing  in 
Israel's  sacrificial  rights  in  general,  and  in  the  yearly  passover  in 
particular.  In  the  latter,  each  household  was  enjoined  by  the 
Mosaic  law  to  bring  a  male  lamb,  without  blemish  or  infirmity 
to  the  sanctuary,  there  solemnly  confess  their  transgressions 
over  it,  then  bring  it,  typically  burdened  with  their  sins,  to  the 
court  of  the  temple  to  be  slain ;  and  after  it  was  roasted,  con- 
sume it  entirely,  in  festive  communion,  with  joy  and  thanksgiv- 
ing to  Jehovah.  That  which  was  prophetically  typical  in  this 
ceremony  was  so  apparent  that  even  the  most  simple  mind  could 
not  mistake  it.  Every  one  who  was  only  partially  susceptible 
of  that  which  was  divinely  symbolical,  felt  immediately  im- 
pressed with  the  idea  that  this  divine  ordinance  could  have  no 
other  aim  than  to  keep  alive  in  Israel,  along  with  the  remem- 
brance of  the  promised  Deliverer,  the  confidence  and  hope  in 
him. 

John  the  Baptist  appears  in  the  wilderness;  and  the  first 
greeting  with  which  he  welcomes  Jesus,  which  was  renewed 
win  never  he  saw  him,  is,  "Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world!"  thereby  directing  the  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  world  to  Jesus,  as  if  there  were  thenceforward 
nothing  else  worth  seeing  in  heaven  or  on  earth  than  this 
Lamb  of  God ;  and  by  so  doing,  he  certainly  directs  us  to  the 

12 


266  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

greatest  and  most  beatifying  of  all  mysteries,  and  to  the  pith 
and  marrow  of  the  entire  Gospel.  For  if  Christ  had  been  only 
the  "  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,"  and  not  at  the  same  tir^e  "  the 
Lamb,"  what  would  it  have  availed  us  ?  As  "  the  Lamb,"  he 
is  the  desire  of  all  nations,  the  star  of  hope  to  the  exiles  from 
Eden,  the  sun  of  righteousness  in  the  night  of  sorrow  to  those 
whom  the  law  condemns,  and  the  heavenly  lamp  to  the  wanderer 
in  the  gloomy  vale  of  death. 

He  is  all  this  as  "  the  Lamb  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
world."  But  this  expression  implies,  not  only  that .  the  sin  of 
the  world  grieves  his  sacred  heart,  or  that  he  endured  the  con- 
tradiction of  sinners  against  himself,  and  that  he  patiently  bore 
the  pain  inflicted  on  him  by  their  sins,  and  by  his  life  and 
doctrine  aimed  at  removing  sin.  The  words  have  a  meaning 
which  can  not  be  properly  fathomed.  Christ  bore  the  sin  of  the 
world  in  a  much  more  peculiar  and  literal  sense  than  that  just 
mentioned.  He  bore  it  by  letting  it  be  imputed  to  him  by  his 
Father,  in  a  manner  incomprehensible  to  us,  so  that  it  became 
no  longer,  ours  but  his.  For  we  read  in  2  Cor.  v.  19,  that 
"  God  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  im- 
puting their  trespasses  unto  them."  What  can  this  mean,  but 
that  God  did  not  leave  the  world  to  suffer  for  its  trespasses, 
nor  even  for  its  sins.  And  if  it  be  asked,  "  Who  then  did  suffer 
if  the  world  escaped?"  We  find  the  answer  in  the  21st  verse, 
where  it  is  said,  "  God  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us  who  knew  no 
sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him." 
This  being  made  sin,  must  mean  the  same  thing  as  was  signified 
by  imputing  sin.  Now,  if  any  one  objects  and  says  that  sin  is 
something  personal,  and  though  it  may  be  transferred  by  in- 
fection and  seduction,  it  can  not  be  so  by  the  imputation  of  the 
guilt  of  others  to  an  innocent  person :  we  reply,  "  Who  art  thou, 
0  man,  that  darest  to  call  the  word  of  God  to  account,  which 
not  only  declares  it  possible,  but  also  places  it  before  us  as  some- 
thing which  has  become  a  historical  fact  ?" 

Here  we  must  not  pass,  unnoticed,  the  wonderful  union  and 
amalgamation  into  which  Christ  entered  with  the  .human  race, 
the  mysterious  depths  of  which  we  shall  never  fathom  here  below. 
Eventually,  we  shall  be  astonished  in  what  a  profound  and  corn 


THE   LAMB    OF    GOD.  267 

prehensive  sense  Christ  became  our  head;  and  how  literally 
the  title  belonged  to  him  of  the  representative  of  our  race.  But 
then  we  shall  also  learn  to  know  and  comprehend  how,  with- 
out infringing  upon  the  moral  order  of  the  world,  the  guilt  of 
others  could  be  transferred  to  him,  and  how  he  could  thus  become 
f  the  Lamb  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 

Keeping  this  position  of  our  Lord  in  view  as  Mediator  and 
Surety,  the  accusations,  which  were  heaped  upon  Christ  by  the 
Jews,  acquire  a  deep  symbolical  signification.  Although  in  the 
tract,  as  far  as  they  have  reference  to  our  Lord  in  his  moral 
acity,  they  were  the  most  abominable  slanclers  and  false- 
ds ;  yet  in  another  respect,  they  have  much  of  truth  at  their 
s.  The  world,  according  to  G-od's  counsel  and  will,  dis- 
rges  on  its  representative,  Jesus  Christ,  the  transgressions  of 
hich  itself  is  guilty ;  and  the  groundless  accusations  of  the  Jews 
e  only  to  place  in  the  brightest  and  most  brilliant  light,  the 
b-like  character  of  our  great  Redeemer. 
Still  more  clearly  does  "the  Lamb  of  God"  manifest  itself  in 
t,  in  the  conduct  which  he  observes,  amid  the  furious 
tions  of  his  adversaries.  Jesus  is  silent,  as  if  actually 
ilty  of  all  that  they  charge  upon  him.  Pilate,  unable  to  cope 
with  the  storm  which  roars  around  him  from  the  crowd  below, 
almost  entreats  the  Lord  to  say  something  in  his  own  defense. 
But  Jesus  is  silent.  Pilate,  occupied  solely  with  him,  says  to 
him,  "  Answerest  thou  nothing  ?  Behold  how  many  things  they 
witness  against  thee!  Hearest  thou  not?"  "But  Jesus,"  as 
the  narrative  informs  us,  "  answered  nothing,  not  even  a  word, 
insomuch  that  the  governor  marveled  greatly."  How  could  he 
do  otherwise,  seeing  that-  he  only  measured  the  Lord's  conduct 
by  a  human  standard  ?  Every  one  else,  at  a  moment  when  life 
was  at  stake,  would  have  hastily  brought  together  every  thing 
that  could  have  overthrown  the  charges  brought  against  him, 
especially,  if  so  much  had  stood  at  his  command,  as  in  the  case 
of  Jesus ;  but  he  is  silent.  Every  one  else  would  at  least  have 
demanded  proofs  of  the  truth  of  the  shameless  den  anciations  of 
his  opponents;  but  not  a  syllable  proceeds  from  Jesus's  lips. 
Every  one  else,  in  his  situation,  would  have  appealed  from  the 
mendacious  priesthood  to  the  consciences  of  the  people,  and  have 


268  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

roused  the  feeling  of  what  is  just  and  right  in  those  who  were 
not  entirely  hardened,  of  whom,  in  the  moving  mass  of  men, 
there  were  doubtless  many ;  but  Jesus  appealed  to  no  one,  either 
in  heaven  or  on  earth.  Ah !  had  Pilate  known  who  he  was 
that  stood  thus  meekly  before  him,  how  would  he  have  mar- 
veled !  It  was  he,  before  whose  judgment-seat  all  the  millions 
that  have  ever  breathed  upon  earth,  will  be  summoned,  that  he 
may  pronounce  upon  them  their  final  and  eternal  sentence.  It 
was  he  before  whom  the  sons  of  Belial,  who  now  heap  their 
lying  accusations  upon  him,  will  at  length  appear  bound  in  thej 
fetters  of  his  curse,  and  who,  under  the  thunder  of  his  sentence, 
will  call  upon  the  rocks  to  fall  upon  them,  and  the  hills  to  cover 
them,  and  hide  them  from  the  face  of  him  that  sitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  from  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb.  And  he  now  stands 
before  their  bar,  and  is  mute,  like  one  who  thinks  he  must  give 
up  all  hope  of  gaining  his  cause.  But  he  is  silent  also,  because 
in  the  consciousness  of  his  innocence,  he  deems  it  beneath  his 
dignity  to  waste  one  word  in  reply  to  such  accusations.  He  is 
silent,  that  the  sting  of  conscience  may  penetrate  still  deeper 
into  the  marrow  of  the  reckless  mob,  who  do  not  themselves 
believe  in  the  falsehoods  they  foam  out.  Pilate  assuredly  feels 
something  of  the  dignity  and  majesty  which  manifested  itself  in 
our  Lord's  silence ;  and  it  is  this  which  is  chiefly  the  object  of 
the  governor's  astonishment  and  admiration. 

But  the  Lord  also  observes  silence  with  regard  to  those  who 
blaspheme  him  in  the  present  day.  It  is  a  silence  of  forbear- 
ance, but  also  partly  of  contempt ;  for  they  likewise  blaspheme 
him  against  light  and  knowledge.  Eventually  he  will  speak 
to  them,  and  then  they  will  be  constrained  tremblingly  to 
acknowledge  that  they  would  not  have  him  to  reign  over 
them.  Christ  is  silent,  when  his  people  murmur  against 
him,  and  complain  of  his  ways  and  guidance.  He  is  mute, 
in  this  case  also,  from  the  profoundest  feeling  of  innocence, 
well  knowing,  that  while  supplicating  his  forgiveness,  they 
will  kiss  his  hands  for  having  led  them  just  so,  and  not  cither- 
wise. 

In  other  respects,  Christ  is  not  silent  upon  earth.  He  that 
has  an  ear  for  his  voice,  hears  it  in  a  variety  of  ways  in  every 


THE   LAMB   OP   GOD.  269 


13e.  Witnessing  for  himself  and  his  cause,  he  speaks  at  one 
e  in  obvious  judgments,  winch  he  inflicts  upon  Ins  foes  j  and 
ither,  in  tangible  blessings  and  answers  to  prayer,  with 
which  he  favors  Ins  friends.  He  speaks  in  the  Sabbatic  rest  of 
soul,  which  those  enjoy,  who  trust  in  him,  as  well  as  by  the 
want  of  peace,  the  distressing  care  and  fear  of  death,  which  are 
the  lot  of  the  ungodly.  He  speaks  by  the  surprising  confirma- 
tions which  science,  in  its  progress,  is  often  involuntarily 
obliged  to  afford  his  word;  as  well  as  by  the  manifold  signs 
of  the  times,  which  manifest  nothing  but  a  literal  fulfillment 
of  his  prophesies.  By  fresh  revivals  of  his  Church,  in  spite 
of  his  enemies,  who  already  begin  to  cry  "  Ichabod !"  over 
her,  he  speaks  within  the  bounds  of  Christendom,  and  bears 
witness  in  the  heathen  world,  by  new  spiritual  creations,  which 
he  wondrously  calls  into  being,  as  of  old,  from  apparently 
hopeless  and  worthless  materials.  Hence  what  we  read  in 
Psalm  xix.,  literally  becomes  true :  "  There  is  no  speech 
nor  language  where  their  voice  is  not  heard.  Their  sound 
is  gone  forth  through  all  the  earth*  and  their  words  unto  the 
end  of  the  world." 

But  the  chief  cause  of  Jesus's  silence  ami  the  stormy  accusa- 
tions of  his  adversaries,  has  not  yet  been  touched  upon.  It  lies 
in  his  mediatorial  position.  In  our  Lord,  the  Lamb  of  God,  the 
High  Priest,  the  heavenly  Surety,  is  silent,  for  he  takes  upon 
himself,  without  gainsaying,  before  the  face  of  God,  all  that  of 
which  he  is  accused,  because  he  is  willing  to  suffer  and  repay, 
as  the  mediating  and  universal  debtor,  all  that  we  have  incurred. 
It  is  with  peculiar  reference  to  this  that  John  the  Baptist  ex- 
claimed, "  Behold  1"  for  here  beams  our  Morning  Star,  here 
shines  our  Sun  of  Peace.  His  blood,  when  viewed  in  the  true 
light,  appeases  every  storm,  heals  every  wound,  blots  out  every 
sin,  and  removes  the  curse  pronounced  against  it.  The  believing 
?iew  of  the  Lamb  of  God  harmoniously  dissolves  all  our  inward 
discords,  restrains  every  passion,  makes  the  commandment, 
which  is  otherwise  a  heavy  chain,  into  a  gentle  yoke,  beneath 
which,  led  by  the  paternal  hand  of  Deity,  we  joyfully  pursue 
our  way.  In  this  looking  to  the  Lamb  consists  "  the  victory 
that  overcometh  the  world,"  and  with  the  latter,  every  distress 


270  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

in  life  and  death.  But  when  our  eyes  open  in  the  heavenly- 
world,  we  shall  behold  the  Lamb  without  a  vail.  No  cloud 
will  then  conceal  him  from  us  any  more.  We  sink  low  at 
his  feet  in  humble  adoration,  and  join  with  the  hosts  of  the  just 
made  perfect,  in  the  never-ending  hymn,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain  to  receive  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing,  for- 
ever and  ever."     Amen. 


XXXI. 

CHRIST    BEFORE    HEROD. 

Pilate's  clear  and  decided  testimony  that  he  found  no  fault  in 
Jesus,  did  not  fail  of  its  effect  on  his  accusers.  They  stand 
aghast,  and  perceive  the  danger  which  threatens  the  result  of 
their  whole  proceedings.  Had  Pilate  manfully  maintained 
throughout  the  tone  of  judicial  decision  with  which  he  com- 
menced, it  would  doubtless  have  burst  the  fetters  imposed  on 
the  better  feelings  df  a  great  part  of  the  assembled  multitude, 
and  Christ  have  been  set  at  liberty,  and  even  saluted  with  new 
hosannas ;  while  the  tumult  thus  occasioned  might  have  been 
attended  with  serious  consequences  to  the  chief  priests  and 
rulers.  They  were,  therefore,  compelled  to  oppose  such  a  change 
in  the  state  of  things  by  every  means  in  their  power.  They 
consequently  again  raise  their  voices  with  fresh  complaints. 
But  however  great  the  clamor  they  make,  they  do  not  entirely 
succeed  in  concealing  the  embarrassment  in  which  they  are 
involved.  Their  accusations,  though  uttered  more  noisily  than 
before,  bear  evident  marks  of  their  failing  courage.  Instead  of 
denouncing  the  Lord,  as  before,  as  a  rebel  and  a  traitor — well 
aware  that  such  a  barefaced  charge  would  no  longer  be  responded 
to,  and  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  supporting  it  by  actual 
proof,  they  bring  their  accusation  down  to  the  unimportant 
assertion,  that  "  he  stirred  up  the  people  by  his  teaching,  which 
he  began  in  Galilee,  and  continued  throughout  all  Jewry." 

How  easy  would  it  have  been  for  Pilate,  by  a  rapid  and  pra 


CUEIST   BEFORE    HEROD. 


271 


nt  use  of  this  favorable  moment,  to  have  triumphantly 
ued  his  prisoner,  and  with  him,  himself  and  his  own  con- 

ence!  In  order  entirely  to  confuse  and  disarm  his  more 
than  half  subdued  foes,  he  only  needed,  in  a  few  energetic  words, 
to  have  pointed  out  the  baseness  of  their  conduct.  But  fear  had 
taken  possession  of  the  poor  man  to  such  a  degree  as  to  deprive 

Im  of  the  free  use  of  his  reasoning  faculties,  and  compel  him 
have  recourse  to  the  most  foolish  measures.  In  the  uproar, 
tuch,  however,  only  showed  the  weakness  of  the  adverse  party, 
!  imagines  he  hears  some  new  storm  rolling  over  his  head,  and 
w  does  he  rejoice  when  the  mention  of  Galilee  seems  to  him 
open  a  new  way  of  escape.  He  hastily  inquires  "whether 
e  man  were  a  G-alilean?"  and  on  being  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  he  exclaims  with  the  delight  of  a  seaman,  who,  after 
a  long  and  stormy  voyage  at  length  discovers  land,  "  He  belongs, 
then,  to  Herod's  jurisdiction !"  and  immediately  gives  orders  for 
Jesus  to  be  conducted  bound  to  the  latter,  who  happened  fortu- 
itely  to  be  at  that  time  in  Jerusalem,  on  account  of  the  festival ; 
id  he  feels  as  if  a  mountain  were  removed  from  his  breast,  on 
ring  the  troublesome  captive  withdraw,  under  the  escort  of  the 
lief  priests,  soldiers,  and  the  crowd  that  followed. 
We  already  know  something  of  Herod  Antipas,  the  Tetrarch 
Galilee.  He  is  the  same  wretched  libertine  who,  after  repu- 
iting  his  consort,  a  daughter  of  Aretas,  an  Arabian  king,  and 
lmencing  an  incestuous  connection  with  Herodias,  his  half- 
>ther's  wife,  at  the  instigation  of  the  latter,  caused  John  the 
iptist,  who  had  reproved  him,  in  God's  name,  for  his  criminal 
lduct,  to  be  beheaded  in  prison.  For  this  crime  his  con- 
ience  severely  smote  him ;  and  when  he  heard  of  Jesus  and 
doings,  he  could  not  be  persuaded  but  that  the  wonder-worker 
John  whom  he  had  murdered,  but  who  had  risen  from  the 
id.  A  Sadducee  according  to  his  mental  bias,  more  a  heathen 
in  an  Israelite,  and  entirely  devoted  to  licentiousness,  he  was, 
wertheless,  as  is  often  the  case  with  such  characters,  not  dis- 
^lined  to  base  acts  of  violence,  and  capable  of  the  most  refined 
ielti.es.  Luke  state3  respecting  him  that  lie  had  done  much 
;  and  the  only  ironical  expression  that  ever  proceeded  from 
lips  of  the  "  Sinner's  Friend,"  had  reference  to  this  miserable 


272  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

man,  who  was  so  well  versed  in  all  the  arts  of  dissimulation  and 
hypocrisy.  For,  on  one  occasion,  when  a  number  of  Pharisees 
came  to  Jesus,  and  said,  "  Get  thee  out  and  depart  hence,  for 
Herod  will  kill  thee,"  the  Lord  immediately  perceived  that  in 
these  apparently  kind  advisers  he  saw  before  him  only  emis- 
saries from  Herod  himself,  who,  because  he  had  not  the  courage 
to  lay  violent  hands  upon  him,  hoped,  by  empty  threats,  to  banish 
him  from  his  territory.  He,  therefore,  said  in  reply  to  the  hypo- 
crites, unmasking  them,  to  their  profound  disgrace,  as  well  as 
that  of  their  royal  master,  "  Go  ye,  and  tell  that  fox,  Behold  I 
cast  out  devils  and  do  cures  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the  third 
day  I  shall  be  perfected.  Nevertheless,  I  must  walk  to-day  and 
to-morrow  and  the  day  following." 

To  this  degraded  libertine,  therefore,  in  whom  every  better 
feeling  had  been  gradually  extinguished,  our  Lord  is  brought,  in 
order  that  he  may  not  be  spared  from  any  thing  that  is  igno- 
minious and  repulsive,  and  that  there  might  be  no  judicial  tri- 
bunal before  which  he  did  not  stand.  The  envenomed  hosts  of 
priests  and  Pharisees,  with  wild  uproar,  arrive  with  their  prey 
before  the  residence  of  the  Galilean  king,  who,  on  hearing  what 
was  the  cause  of  the  appearing  of  the  unwonted  crowd,  orders 
the  heads  of  the  people,  with  their  delinquent,  to  be  brought 
before  him.  Jesus  silently  and  gravely  approaches  his  sovereign. 
The  latter,  as  the  narrative  informs  us,  "when  he  saw  Jesus, 
was  exceeding  glad ;  for  he  was  desirous  to  see  him  of  a  long 
season,  because  he  had  heard  many  things  of  him,  and  he  hoped 
to  have  seen  some  miracles  done  by  him." 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Herod  had  never  before  seen  the 
face  of  Jesus,  although  he  so  often  abode  in  Galilee.  But  the 
Lord  had  never  honored  Tiberias,  where  Herod  resided,  with  a 
visit,  although  he  had  frequently  been  near  it;  and  for  Herod 
to  take  a  single  step,  in  order  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
the  JNazarene,  who  was  so  much  spoken  of,  naturally  never 
crossed  the  mind  of  one  so  destitute  of  all  religious  interest, 
and  at  the  same  time,  so  proud  and  overbearing  as  his 
Galilean  majesty.  It  afforded  him,  however,  no  little  pleasure, 
so  conveniently  and  without  risk,  to  see  his  long-cherished  wish 
tulnlled.      "A*,  all  events,"  thought  he  within  himself,  "it  will 


CHRIST   BEFORE   HEROD.  273 

afford  an  interesting  pastime,  an  amusing  spectacle.     And  if  he 

will  let  himself  be  induced  to  unvail  somewhat  of  the  future  to 

•    perform   a   miracle,   what   a  delightful    hour    might    be 

Herod,  therefore,  hoped  to  draw  the  Saviour  of  the  world  into 
the  circle  of  the  objects  of  his  amusement,  even  as  he  had  dared 
to  draw  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist  into  the  sphere  of  his  licen- 
tiousness. The  king  promised  himself  a  recreation  from  the 
presence  of  Jesus,  such  as  is  expected  from  that  of  a  juggler  or 
a  charlatan.     In  this  respect,  he  represents  those  frivolous  people 

Io,  according  to  the  apostolic  expression,  "have  not  the  Spirit," 
I  to  whom  even  the  most  sublime  things  are  only  a  comedy, 
•sons  of  this  description  venture  to  intrude  even  into  the 
ctuary,  and  are  apparently  desirous  of  seeing  Christ,  at  least 
set  forth  in  sermons,  books,  figures,  or  history,  but  only 
because  of  the  aesthetic  feeling  thereby  excited.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  to  such  characters,  even  the  church  becomes  a  theater, 
the  sermon  a  pastime,  the  Gospel  a  romance,  and  the  history  of 
conversions  a  novel.  0  how  dangerous  is  the  position  of  those, 
in  whom  all  seriousness  degenerates  into   empty  jocularity,  and 

•ay  thing  that  ought  deeply  to  affect  them,  into  jest  and  amuse- 
nt!  Before  they  are  aware,  this  their  volatility  may  end  in 
entire  obtuseness  to  the  more  affecting  descriptions  of  the  last 
judgment,  so  that  no  more  effect  is  produced  upon  them  than  is 
caused  by  the  success  of  a  scene  in  the  drama ;  and  the  represent- 
ation of  the  horrors  of  hell  passes  before  them  only  like  the 
exhibition  of  a  magnificent  firework,  and  causes  them  the  same 

Pd  of  feeling  as  the  latter. 
Ierod  regards  our  Lord,  on  his  approach,  with  an  inquisi- 
look,  and  after  eyeing  him  from  head  to  foot,  presumes  to 
put  a  number  of  foolish  questions  to  him.  Our  Lord  deigns  liim 
no  answer,  but  observes  complete  silence.  The  king  continues 
to  question  him,  but  the  Saviour  is  mute.  Herod  even  suggests 
he  ought  to  perform  some  miracle.  Jesus  can  not  comply 
with  his  wish,  and  gives  him  to  know  this  by  his  continued 
silence  more  impressively  than  could  have  been  done  by  words. 
The  chief  priests  and  scribes,  indignant  at  his  passive  behavior, 
again  begin  their  blasphemies,  and  accuse  him  vehemently.     He 

12* 


274  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

regards  them  as  unworthy  of  a  reply,  and  continues  to  observe 
a  silence,  which  is  distressing  and  almost  horrifying. 

The  Lord  having  refused  to  do  the  will  of  Herod  and  his 
satellites,  the  miserable  men  infer  from  his  behavior  that  he  is 
unable  to  do  any  thing,  and  begin  to  despise  him,  and  even  to 
mock  him.  Painful  are  the  mortifications  that  Jesus  has  here 
to  endure.  Even  the  hurrying  him  about,  hither  and  thither, 
— Pilate's  sending  him  to  Herod,  to  show  the  latter  a  piece 
of  civility — Herod's  returning  the  compliment  by  sending 
him  back  to  the  Roman  governor,  that  the  latter  may  have 
the  honor  of  pronouncing  the  final  sentence  upon  him — what 
degradation  is  inflicted  on  the  Lord  of  glory  in  all  this!  But 
this  is  only  the  beginning  of  disgrace  and  humiliation.  How 
much  has  he  to  endure  in  the  presence  of  Herod  and  his  court- 
iers, who  treat  him  as  a  juggler  and  a  conjuror !  He  is  urged 
to  amuse  the  company  by  a  display  of  his  art.  His  ear  is 
offended  by  impertinent  questions ;  and  on  his  making  no  reply 
to  them  all,  the  measure  of  insult  and  mockery  overflows.  He 
is  treated  as  a  simpleton,  unworthy  of  the  attention  he  has 
excited,  who,  after  having  acted  his  part,  and  proved  himself  to 
be  merely  a  ridiculous  enthusiast,  is  only  deserving  of  universal 
contempt.  Herod  deems  it  unnecessary  to  take  any  serious 
notice  of  the  accusations  which  the  chief  priests  vent  against 
Jesus.  He  thinks  that  no  great  weight  ought  to  be  attached 
to  the  senseless  things  which  such  a  foolish  fellow  might  presume 
to  say  of  himself.  He  is  sufficiently  punished  for  his  folly  by 
his  helplessness  being  now  made  known  to  the  whole  world,  and 
by  his  thus  becoming  the  object  of  pity  and  public  ridicule.  He 
carries  out  these  sentiments,  by  causing,  in  his  jocular  mood,  a 
white  robe  to  be  put  upon  the  Lord,  in  order  to  point  him  out 
as  a  mock  king  and  the  caricature  of  a  philosopher,  or,  per- 
haps even  to  stamp  him  as  a  lunatic,  since  it  was  customary  in 
Israel  to  clothe  these  unfortunate  people  in  white  upper  gar- 
ments. 

Such,  my  readers,  is  the  sacrificial  fire  which  burns  in  the 
na-rative  we  are  now  considering.  And  tell  me'  how  the  Most 
Holy  One,  who  inhabits  eternity,  could  quietly  have  bome-  to  see 
such  degradation  of  the  Son  of  his  good  pleasure,  without  cast- 


CHRIST  BEFORE  HEROD.  \    275 

ing  forth  the  lightnings  of  his  wrath  upon  the  perpetrators  of 
such  indignities,  if  the  Lord  Jesus  had  endured  this  scandalous 

I  ment  only  for  his  own  person,  and  not  at  the  same  time  as 
standing  in  an  extraordinary  position,  and  exercising  a  mysteri- 
ous mediation  ?  But  you  know  that  he  stood  there  in  our  stead, 
and  as  the  second  Adam,  laden  with  our  guilt.  He  there  heard  the 
Father's  exclamation,  "Awake,  0  sword,  against  my  shepherd, 
and  against  the  man  that  is  my  fellow  1"  Here  also  was  fulfilled 
the  ancient  prophetic  saying,  "  The  Lord  laid  upon  him  the  ini- 
quities of  us  all."  "  The  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  him." 
Thank  God  that  such  was  the  case;  for  I  should  never  have 
been  able,  even  if  an  angel  from  heaven  had  brought  me  the 
intelligence,  to  make  room  for  the  conviction  that  my  sins  would 
not  be  imputed  to  me,  had  I  not,  at  the  same  time,  been  told 
what  had  become  of  the  sins  thus  taken  from  me,  since  I  know 
nothing  more  surely  than  this,  that  my  blood-red  sins  can  not  be 
arbitrarily  pardoned  and  overlooked,  or  even  pass  unnoticed  as 
trifles  of  no  account.  Were  this  the  case,  how  would  it  be  pos- 
sible for  me  to  believe  any  longer  in  a  just  and  holy  God  ?  But 
the  Gospel  now  comes  in,  and  tells  me  most  clearly  the  history 
of  my  misdeeds,  how  they  were  transferred  to  him  who  appeared 
in  my  place ;  and  in  his  intervention,  I  now  sensibly  grasp  the 
legal  ground  of  my  absolution.  The  Lord  stands  before  Herod, 
as  he  did  before  Annas,  Caiaphas,  and  Pilate,  not  merely  to  be 
judged  by  men.  but  by  God  at  the  same  time ;  and  it  is  my  sin 
for  which  he  atones,  and  my  debt  which  he  liquidates. 

ISTo  wonder,  therefore,  that  he  resigns  himself  to  the  poisoned 
arrows  which  here  pierce  his  heart  in  its  most  vulnerable  part 
— that  without  gainsaying  he  listens  to  the  most  wicked  im- 
putations, and  with  lamb-like  patience  lets  himself  be  branded 
both  as  a  blasphemer  and  a  fanatic,  a  rebel  and  a  conspiratoi — 
that    he    even    bears   with   equanimity   the    circumstance    that 

od's  expectations  respecting  him  are  gradually  changed  into 
contempt  for  his  person — that  the   Lord  of  Glory  suffers  him- 
self to  be  degraded  so  low  as  to  become  the  butt  of  the  miser- 
jokes  of  a  contemptible  and  adulterous  court.      What  he 

ares  is  horrible  to  think  of;  and  yet  it  lay  in  his  power, 
with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  to  dash  the  reckless  company  to  the 


276  THE   HOLT  PLACE. 

ground.  But  he  does  not  move  a  finger,  and  remains  silent,  for 
he  knows  that  here  is  God's  altar,  and  the  fire,  and  the  wood  ; 
and  that  he  was  the  Lamb  for  the  burnt-offering.  * 

But  however  deep  the  humiliation  in  which  we  behold  the 
Son  of  God;  it  is  nevertheless  interwoven  throughout  with 
traits  which  are  glorifying  to  him,  and  tend  to  establish  our 
faith. 

Even  in  the  childish  joy  which  Pilate  evinces  at  the  prospect 
of  transferring  the  process  against  Jesus  to  another,  his  deep 
conviction  of  the  innocence  and  unblamableness  of  the  ac- 
cused is  more  clearly  reflected  than  in  all  his  oral  assertions. 
His  soul  exults  at  the  accidental  information  given  him  that 
Jesus  belonged  to  the  Galilean  tetrarchate,  which  teaches 
us  how  fortunate  the  Roman  esteemed  his  being  thus  able  to 
escape  from  sharing  in  the  guilt  of  condemning  the  Righteous 
One. 

Of  Herod  it  was  said  that  he  was  "  exceeding  glad  when  he 
saw  Jesus."  This  uncommon  joy  of  the  Galilean  prince,  that 
at  last  an  opportunity  was  afforded  him  of  seeing  Jesus,  face  to 
face,  is  not  less  important  in  an  apologetic  point  of  view,  and 
tends  no  less  to  the  Lord's  glorification  than  the  joy  of  Pilate 
in  being  happily  rid  of  him.  The  Saviour  must  have  excited  a 
great  sensation  in  the  country,  and  not  have  displayed  his 
marvelous  powers  in  remote  corners,  but  in  places  of  public 
resort,  that  Herod  thus  burned  with  desire  to  make  his  personal 
acquaintance.  And  how  uncommon  and  unique  must  the  Lord's 
acts  have  been,  that  a  man  so  totally  dead  to  every  better 
feeling,  as  that  adulterer  in  a  royal  crown,  should  have  such  a 
desire ! 

Herod  hoped,  besides,  that  he  would  have  seen  some  miracle 
performed  by  the  Saviour.  This  expectation  is  again  a  proof 
that  Jesus  had  really  sealed  his  divine  mission  by  miraculous 
acts,  and  that  the  wonders  he  performed  were  universally  ac- 
knowledged to  be  such.  Herod  does  not  intend  first  to  try 
whether  Jesus  can  work  miracles,  but  takes  his  power  and 
ability  to  do  so  for  granted.  But  what  a  depth  of  inward  cor- 
ruption is  betrayed  in  the  fact  that  this  man,  in  spite  of  his 
conviction  of  the   Saviour's   ability  to   perform  divine  acts,  not 


CHRIST  .BEFORE   HEROD.  277 


only  refuses  him  belief  and  homage,  but  even  degrades  him  to 
the  state  of  an  object  of  his  scorn! 

The  tetrarch  asks  the  Lord  a  variety  of  questions  surpassing 
the  bounds  of  human  knowledge.  He  had  therefore  heard  of 
the  wisdom  with  which  the  Lord  knew  how  to  reply  to  questions 
of  this  kind,  and  to  solve  every  difficulty.  Hence  he  involuntarily 
does  honor  to  Christ's  prophetical  office.  And  even  in  the  cir- 
cumstance that  Herod  did  not  venture  to  go  further  in  his  ridi- 
cule than  the  clothing  Jesus  in  a  white  toga,  when  the  latter 
observed  a  profound  silence  to  his  questions — he  manifests  a 
secret  reverence  for  him,  and  thus  proves  anew  that  Christ  must 
have  actually  spoken  in  an  ambiguous  manner  of  his  kingdom, 
and  of  a  dominion  which  he  came  to  establish. 

Finally,  that  the  deep-rooted  disagreement,  which  had  so  long 
prevailed  between  Pilate  and  Herod,  was  suddenly  terminated 
and  changed  into  a  friendly  feeling  by  the  civility  shown  to  the 
latter  in  transferring  over  to  him  the  accused  Kabbi,  serves  again 
as  a  proof  how  highly  these  men  in  power  thought  of  the  de- 
linquent  brought  before  them.  The  transfer  of  a  common 
criminal,  or  even  of  a  notorious  fanatic  and  swindler,  would 
probably  have  been  attended  by  no  such  effect.  But  that  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  was  selected  to  mediate  the  renewed  approxima- 
tion of  the  two  potentates,  works  favorably,  and  puts  an  end  to 
all  former  ill-will  and  mistrust.  Who  does  not  perceive  that 
this  circumstance,  however  revolting  in  itself,  again  tends  to 
glorify  Christ  in  a  high  degree  ? 

Something  similar  to  that  winch  occurred  between  Pilate  and 
Herod,  happens  not  seldom,  even  in  the  present  day.  Parties 
who  most  violently  oppose  each  other  in  other  fields  of  research 
become  reconciled,  and  even  confederates  and  friends,  if  only  for 
a  while,  as  soon  as  they  join  in  the  contest  against  Christ  and 
his  adorers.  But  what  else  do  they  evince  thereby  than  that 
Christ  stands  in  their  way  as  an  imposing  power  ?  An  incon- 
siderable personage,  whose  claims  on  then  submission  they  knew 
not  to  be  well-founded,  would  never  exercise  such  an  influence 
over  them;  and  finally,  an  individual  whom  they  regarded  as 
merely  mythological,  they  would  certainly  put  aside,  as  unworthy 
of  their  attention. 


2 78  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Whatever  may  be  planned  or  executed  against  Jesus,  ho 
comes  forth  more  than  justified  from  it  all.  Hatred  must 
glorify  him  as  well  as  love.  Persecution  crowns  him  as  well 
as  devotedness  to^his  cause.  But  if  mutual  opposition  to  him  is 
able  to  transmute  bitter  enemies  into  friends ;  what  bonds  ought 
the  mutual  homage  of  the  glorified  Redeemer  to  cement !  "  I 
believe  in  the  communion  of  saints,"  is  a  part  of  our  creed.  I 
not  merely  believe  it,  but  thank  G-od!  I  also  see  it.  May  the 
Lord  however  preserve  it;  for  at  this  present  time  it  suffers. 
Those  who  are  united  in  Christ,  fall  out  with  each  other,  because 
they  blindly  embrace  some  school-formula  as  their  Saviour,  in- 
stead of  Christ,  as  if  they  were  tired  of  him.  This  is  a  lament- 
able and  deplorable  circumstance.  May  the  Lord  overrule  it, 
and  awaken  in  the  hearts  of  his  children,  sentiments  of  real 
brotherly  affection  toward  each  other ! 


XXXII. 

PILATE    OUR   ADVOCATE. 

Pilate  again  finds  himself  in  a  great  dilemma.  By  transfer- 
ring the  proceedings  to  Herod,  he  hoped  to  have  escaped  from 
his  painful  situation.  But,  contrary  to  his  expectation,  the 
Galilean  prince  sends  the  accused  back  to  him  again,  leaving  it 
to  him  to  terminate  the  affair  he  had  once  begun.  The  governor, 
not  a  little  disturbed  at  this  mistake  in  his  calculations,  turns 
again  to  the  accusers  of  the  Saviour,  and  renews  his  attempt  to 
rescue  Jesus,  and  with  Ijim  his  own  peace  of  mind.  He  makes 
a  speech  to  the  priests,  rulers,  and  the  assembled  populace, 
which,  though  it  contains  nothing  but  what  we  have  already 
heard  him  state,  is  nevertheless  worthy  of  our  serious  considera- 
tion, because  in  it,  Pilate  unconsciously  and  involuntarily  ap- 
pears as  our  advocate. 

However  strangely  it  may  sound,  Pilate  becomes  our  advo- 
cate.    He  takes  Christ,  our  head,  under  his  protection,  and  us 


PILATE   OUR   ADVOCATE.  279 

with  him.  He  legally  absolves  him  from  all  criminality,  and  in 
him  his  followers  also.  He  begins  his  address  by  saying,  "Ye 
have  brought  this  man  unto  me,  as  one  that  perverteth  the 
people."  In  a  certain  sense,  Something  of  this  kind  may  be 
asserted  of  the  Saviour  with  truth.  For  even  as  he  testifies  to 
his  believing  followers,  that  they  are  not  of  the  world ;  so  he 
also  enjoins  upon  them  not  to  be  conformed  to  the  world.  He 
calls  upon  his  people  to  "  come  out  from  among  them ;  for  the 
friendship  of  the  world  is  enmity  with  God."  In  some  degree, 
Christians  will  always  be  separatists.  God  has  so  organized 
them,  that  an  union  of  fire  with  water  is  sooner  to  be  thought  of 
than  of  them  with  the  multitude.  Their  convictions,  principles, 
tastes,  opinions,  and  views  of  things  in  the  world,  as  well  as 
their  wishes,  hopes,  and  desires,  all  are  directly  opposed  to  the 
world's  mode  of  thinking  and  acting.  They  are  by  nature  and 
kind  separated  from  the  unregenerate  world,  although  the 
hearts  of  the  children  of  God  never  detach  themselves  from  the 
children  of  the  world,  but  are  incessantly  inclined  toward  them 
in  compassion  and  charity.  But  the  latter  refuse  to  be  re- 
garded as  those  who  ought  to  undergo  a  change;  and  hence 
the  conflict  upon  earth,  with  reference  to  which  the  Saviour  said, 
"Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  upon  earth,  but  a 
sword." 

When  the  rulers  of  Israel  charged  Jesus  with  perverting  the 
people,  they  wished  it  to  be  understood  in  a  political  sense.  They 
declared  him  to  be  the  ringleader  of  a  band  of  conspirators, 
who  strove  to  stir  up  the  people  against  the  emperor  and  the 
authorities,  and  was  therefore  guilty  of  high  treason.  Nor  was 
our  Lord  either  the  first  or  the  last  of  God's  servants,  on  whom 
such  suspicions  have  been  cast.  Even  Elijah  was  obliged  to 
hear  from  Ahab  the  angry  salutation,  "  Thou  art  he  that  troubleth 
Israel;"  to  which  he  calmly  replied,  "I  have  not  troubled 
Israel,  but  thou  and  thy  father's  house  in  that  ye  have  forsaken 
the  commandments  of  the  Lord,  and  thou  hast  followed  Baalim." 
In  the  same  manner  it  was  said  to  the  king  concerning  Jeremiah, 
"  We  beseech  thee,  let  this  man  be  put  to  death,  for  he  weakeneth 
the  hands  of  the  men  of  war,  and  seeketh  not  the  welfare  of  this 
people,  b  it  their  hurt."     Later  on,  we  find  Paul  accused  before 


280  THE   HOLT   PLACE.  i 

Felix,  much  in  the  same  manner :  "  We  have  found  this  man  a 
pestilent  fellow,  and  a  mover  of  sedition  among  all  the  Jews 
throughout  the  world,  and  a  ringleader  of  the  sect  of  the 
Nazarenes."  And  all  the  subsequent  persecutions  of  the  Chris- 
tians under  the  Eoman  emperors  took  place  under  the  pretext 
that  the  followers  of  Jesus  were  dangerous  to  the  State,  their 
views  being  directed  to  the  weakening  of  allegiance,  and  even  to 
the  subversion  of  the  existing  government. 

Tins  false  accusation  has  been  handed  down  from  age  to  age, 
although  even  Pilate  most  earnestly  took  us  under  his  protection 
against  such  calumnies.  We  hear  him  loudly  declare  before  the 
assembled  multitude,  that  neither  the  throne  nor  the  state  had 
any  thing  to  fear  from  Jesus  and  his  disciples.  "  Behold,"  says 
he,  "I  have  examined  him  before  you,  and  find  no  fault  in  this 
man  touching  those  things  whereof  ye  accuse  him ;  no,  nor  yet 
Herod ;  for  I  sent  you  to  him,  and  lo !  nothing  worthy  of  death 
is  done  unto  him."  Indeed,  how  was  it  possible  to  convict  him 
Df  a  tendency  to  revolt,  who  established  the  universal  principle, 
"  Render  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caasar's ;"  who  seriously 
reproved  Peter  for  assaulting,  in  his  defense,  one  of  the  meanest 
officers  of  the  civil  authorities,  by  saying  to  him,  "Put  up 
again  thy  sword  into  its  place,  for  all  they  that  take  the  sword, 
shall  perish  with  the  sword ;"  and  who  enjoins  upon  us  to  "  be 
subject  to  the  higher  powers,  since  there  is  no  power  but  of 
God,"  and  when  we  are  required  to  do  that  which  is  contrary 
to  God's  word,  exhorts  us  to  a  passive  behavior  in  obeying 
God  rather  than  man. 

But  events  have  recently  occurred,  which  render  needless  any 
advocate  on  behalf  of  believing  Christians,  with  reference  to  their 
political  sentiments.  The  world  now  knows  that  the  billows  of  re- 
bellion find  in  them  a  rock  against  which  they  break,  but  not  a  bay 
into  which  they  may  pour  themselves.  Attempts  to  render  their 
loyalty  suspected  will  not  in  future  succeed.  The  revolutionary 
party  has  repeatedly  been  obliged  to  confess  that  nothing  inter- 
feres so  much  with  their  plans  as  the  Christian  religion.  States, 
which  only  a  few  years  ago  persecuted  their  religious  subjects, 
now  invite  them  into  their  territories,  as  supporters  of  the  throne 
and  guarantees  of  public  order.     Laban  speaks  kindly  to  Jacob. 


PILATE    OUR   ADVOCATE.  281 

Belshazzar  clothes  Daniel  in  purple.  "When  a  man's  ways 
please  the  Lord,"  says  Solomon,  "he  maketh  even  his  enemies 
to  be  at  peace  with  him."  There  is  something  astonishing  in 
the  sudden  annihilation  of  a  charge  which  has  been  brought 
against  the  followers  of  the  Lamb  for  more  than  a  thousand 
years,  such  as  has  recently  occurred.  Let  us  rejoice  at  this  rev- 
olution in  public  opinion  with  respect  to  the  soldiers  of  Christ 
in  the  world,  as  indicative,  in  some  small  degree,  of  that  triumph- 
ant period  of  Christ's  kingdom,  which  is  drawing  nigh. 

But  all  the  charges  brought  against  us  are  not  refuted  by  our 
being  exculpated  from  the  single  accusation  of  entertaining  dis- 
loyal sentiments.  It  is  further  alleged  against  us  that  we  ad- 
here strictly  to  irrational  doctrines,  especially  that  of  Christ's 
vicarious  atonement ;  which,  we  certainly  confess  is  the  marrow 
of  the  Gospel,  and  the  ground  of  all  our  hopes.  If  it  is  not  true 
that  the  Son  of  God  made  the  great  exchange,  in  causing  our 
transgressions  to  be  divinely  imputed  to  him,  taking  our  debts 
to  his  own  account,  giving  himself  up  to  the  sword  of  divine  just- 
ice for  us,  atoning  for  sin  in  our  stead,  enduring  the  curse  and 
condemnation,  and  emptying,  as  our  Surety  and  Kepresentative, 
the  cup  of  horrors  to  its  very  dregs — if,  I  say,  all  this  is  not 
founded  in  truth,  our  sins  then  continue  to  he  as  a  heavy  burden 
upon  us ;  we  are  still  under  the  curse,  and  must  remain  so  to  all 
eternity  ;  then,  no  soul  could  be  saved ;  and  every  p'assage  of  Scrip- 
ture in  which  it  is  said  to  the  sinner,  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee," 
is  a  falsehood,  and  every  promise  of  mercy  in  God's  name  to  the 
rebellious  and  transgressors  is  blasphemous.  Every  thing  of  a 
consolatory  nature  for  fallen  man,  which  the  Bible  contains,  can 
not  then  be  of  divine  origin,  but  must  proceed  from  Satan ;  for 
it  is  impossible  that  God,  who  can  never  abate  any  thing,  either 
from  his  law — the  reflection  of  his  unchangeable  will — or  from 
his  threatenings — the  emanations  of  his  holiness — could  arbi- 
trarily, and  without  any  thing  further,  bless  and  beatify  guilty 
sinners.  If  he  were  to  do  so,  he  would  cease  to  be  holy,  just, 
and  true ;  that  is,  to  be  God.  Such  is  our  belief  and  confession. 
But  what  appears  to  us  so  glorious,  acceptable,  and  rational  in 
the  highest  sense  of  the  word,  the  world  calls  an  absurd  and 
foolish  doctrine,  and  an  antiquated  delusion.      But  here   again, 


282  THE  HOLY  PLACE. 

singularly  enough,  Pilate  appears  for  us,  and  takes  us  under  his 
protection. 

The  Lord  Jesus  ha?,  passed  through  every  examination;  he 
has  been  put  to  one  test  after  another,  weighed  in  every  scale, 
measured  by  every  standard,  and  narrowly  inspected  by  the 
light  of  a  threefold  law — the  Levitical,  civil,  and  moral.  The 
vail  has  now  to  be  removed  from  the  result  of  the  proceedings 
against  him.  The  judge,  who  has  called  the  chief  priests  and 
rulers  to  be  present  at  the  solemn,  and,  as  he  supposes,  decisive 
act,  stands  surrounded  by  a  vast  multitude;  and  when  all  are 
silent  with  expectation,  he  opens  his  mouth  to  pronounce  the 
final  sentence.  He  declares  aloud  to  the  assembled  crowd,  "  Ye 
have  brought  this  man  unto  me,  as  one  that  perverteth  the  people, 
and  behold" — this  is  said  to  the  world  at  large, — "I,  having 
examined  him  before  you,  have  found  no  fault  in  this  man, 
touching  the  tilings  whereof  ye  accuse  him;  no,  nor  yet  Herod, 
for  I  sent  you  to  him,  and  lo !  nothing  worthy  of  death  is  done 
to  him."  *Ee  concludes,  and  all  are  silent,  because  they  feel  that 
Pilate  has  spoken  the  truth. 

Now,  although  he,  who  was  free  from  sin,  was  in  no  wise 
guilty  of  death,  either  judicial  or  natural,  which  latter  is  called 
the  u  wages  of  sin,"  yet  still,  he  dies.  He  dies,  who,  according 
to  justice  as  well  as  the  promise  of  God,  ought  not  to  die,  but 
live ;  and  dies  a  death  which  bears  scarcely  the  remotest  resem- 
blance to  a  martyrdom.  If,  by  his  death,  he  had  only  designed 
to  confirm  the  truth  of  his  doctrine,  he  would  have  failed  in  his 
object;  since  we  can  not  possibly  think  highly  of  a  doctrine, 
whose  teacher,  at  the  gates  of  eternity,  is  compelled  to  make  the 
dreadful  confession  that  God  has  forsaken  him. 

But,  tell  us  now,  why  did  Jesus  die  ?  "  It  is  appointed  unto 
sinners  once  to  die,  and  after  that  the  judgment;"  but  he  was 
not  a  sinner.  Even  the  redeemed  have  no  other  way  to  the 
heavenly  world  than  through  death,  because  their  flesh  is  cor- 
rupted by  sin.  But  in  Christ's  corporeality  this  is  not  the  case ; 
and  yet  he  dies,  and  that  in  such  a  dreadful  manner !  Explain 
how  this  is.  You  take  time  to  reflect.  But  however  long  and 
deeply  you  may  study  the  subject,  we  tell  you  decidedly  before- 
hand, that  you  will  not  bring  forward  any  rational,   convincing, 


PILATE    OUR   ADVOCATE.  283 

and  satisfactory  solution  of  this  mystery.  Hear,  therefore,  how 
we  view  the  subject,  and  consider  whether  there  is  room  for  any 
oilier.  The  monstrous  fact  that  the  just  and  spotless  Jesus, 
notwithstanding  his  holiness,  was  condemned  to  death,  would 
compel  us  to  the  conclusion  that  the  doctrine  of  a  righteous  God, 
who  rules  over  all,  is  a  delusion — that  the  will  of  man  or  chance, 
alone  governs  the  world — that  there  exists  no  divine  retribution 
upon  earth,  and  that  it  will  not  fare  the  worse  with  the  impious 
than  with  the  just — that  no  order  exists,  according  to  which  he 
that  perfectly  keeps  the  law  has  to  expect  the  crown  of  life,  and 
that  the  Scriptures  speak  falsely,  when  they  say  that  death  is  only 
the  result  of  transgression — I  say,  we  should  be  necessarily 
compelled  to  inferences  of  this  kind,  if  we  were  not  permitted  to 
assume  that  the  immaculate  Son  of  God  suffered  death  in  our 
stead.  This  view  of  the  subject  furnishes  the  only  key  to  the 
mystery  of  the  ignominious  end  of  the  just  and  holy  Jesus. 

But  if  we  presuppose  an  atonement  made  by  Christ  for  sin — 
and  we  not  only  may  do  so,  but  are  constrained  to  it  by  the 
clear  evidence  of  Holy  Writ — then  all  is  plain ;  all  is  solved  and 
deciphered,  and  a  sublime  meaning  and  a  glorious  connection 
pervades  the  whole.  God  threatened  Adam  in  paradise,  saying, 
"  In  the  day  that  thou  eatest  of  the  fruit  of  this  tree,  thou  shalt 
surely  die."  We  did  eat  of  that  fruit,  and  incurred  the  horrible 
penalty.  But  the  Eternal  Son  now  appears,  removes  the  latter 
from  us  to  himself,  and  we  live.  On  Sinai  it  was  said,  "  Cursed 
be  every  one  who  continueth  not  in  all  things  that  are  written  in 
the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them."  We  did  not  continue  in  them, 
and  our  fate  was  decided.  But  our  Surety  presents  himself,  en- 
dures the  curse  for  us,  and  we  are  justly  delivered  and  absolved. 
God  has  resolved  to  save  sinners,  notwithstanding  he  has  said. 
"  I  will  blot  the  name  of  him  that  sinneth  out  of  my  book." 
We  believe  in  our  salvation,  for  he  inflicted  upon  Christ  the 
punishment  due  to  us.  God  promised  the  crown  of  life  only  to 
the  obedient;  but  after  Christ,  as  our  representative,  obeyed  in 
our  name,  God  can  bestow  the  crown  on  sinners  and  yet  con- 
tinue holy.  Thus  all  becomes  clear,  and  the  most  striking  oppo- 
site harmoniously  agree.  And  yet  men  dare  to  call  our  doctrine 
of  the  atonement  made  by  Christ  irrational,  and  even  absurd 


284  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Look  how  Pilate  unconsciously  stands  in  the  breach  for  us, 
by  testifying  to  the  truth  that  Jesus  was  not  guilty  of  death. 
Attempt,  in  a  satisfactory  and  rational  manner,  if  you  can,  to 
explain  it,  otherwise  than  by  the  atonement  made  by  Christ, 
how  it  was  that  even  the  holy  and  immaculate  Son  of  God  paid 
the  wages  of  sin. 

Pilate  takes  our  part  once  more.  He  clears  us  of  a  new  cause 
of  reproach.  He  does  not,  indeed,  do  this  directly,  but  he  gives 
occasion  for  our  being  freed  from  it.  We  are  accused  of  dis- 
pensing Scripture  consolation  too  lavishly.  "We  are  reproved  for 
extending  the  grace  purchased  for  us  by  Christ  to  the  greatest 
sinners  and  most  depraved  criminals.  We  are  told  that  we  are 
not  justified  in  so  doing,  and  that  such  conduct  is  dangerous  and 
injurious  to  morality.  But  there  is  something  intimated  in 
that  part  of  the  narrative  under  consideration  which  fully  repels 
the  narrow-minded  reproof,  and  justifies  our  procedure  as  being 
quite  evangelical. 

After  Pilate  has  solemnly  declared  that  no  guilt  attaches  to 
the  accused,  he  continues,  "I  will  therefore" — release  him? 
not  so,  but  "  chastise  him  (that  is,  with  rods)  and  let  him  go." 
Only  think,  what  injustice !  We  are  ready  to  say,  "  0  Pilate, 
how  is  it  possible  that  thou  shouldst  have  recourse  to  such  an 
expedient !  Wilt  thou  scourge  him  as  a  malefactor,  who  said  to 
thee,  with  the  clearest  expression  of  truth,  'I  am  a  King  and 
to  this  end  was  I  born,  that  I  should  bear  witness  of  the  truth,' 
and  from  the  whole  of  whose  deportment  shone  the  radiance, 
not  only  of  spotless  holiness,  but  also  of  supernatural  descent? 
0  to  what  length  does  the  miserable  fear  of  man  mislead  thee, 
and  the  pitiful  anxiety  for  a  little  wordly  honor  and  temporal 
comfort!" 

But  let  us  be  silent.  Pilate's  speech,  "I  will  chastise  him 
and  then  release  him,"  is  still  the  language  of  numbers  of  this 
world's  children.  He  is  chastised  when  men  tear  the  crown  of 
deity  from  his  brow,  and  when  they  silently  brand  him  as  a 
deceiver  and  blasphemer ;  but  then  begin  to  commend  his  excel- 
lences and  virtues,  and  thus  release  him  after  having  maltreated 
him.  They  deny  that  he  is  the  only  way  to  heaven,  although 
he  himself  has  said  so,  and  in  this  way  he  is  chastised;  but  then 


PILATE   OUR   ADVOCATE.  285 

again,  they  applaud  him  as  the  most  eminent  of  teachers ;  and 
thus  he  is  let  go.  Men  chastise  Mm  by  insulting  his  members 
upon  earth,  and  vilifying  those  who  boast  of  his  meritorious 
Bufferings  as  the  sole  ground  of  their  salvation ;  but  again  release 
him  by  making  an  outward  obeisance  at  his  communion-table,  or 
by  confessing  that  he  was  more  than  Socrates  or  Solon.  Alas  I 
we  all  carry  about  with  us,  by  nature,  a  secret  scourge  for  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  never  omit  to  use  it  in  one  way  or  other. 
But  if  our  conscience  asks,  after  such  a  chastising,  why  we  are 
so  averse  and  opposed  to  this  Just  One,  who  never  injured 
us,  we  are  wont,  instead  of  feeling  penitent,  to  hide  our  own 
naughtiness  behind  the  traitorous  kisses  we  bestow  upon  him, 
and  again  release  the  ill-treated  Saviour  by  dubious  marks  of 
respect. 

But  to  return.  It  was  customary  in  Israel  to  chastise  those 
with  rods,  who,  after  trial,  were  convicted  only  of  slight  trans- 
gressions, and  then  to  release  them.  Pilate  was  anxious  to  treat , 
Jesus  as  a  delinquent  of  this  kind.  One  might  have  expected 
after  all  that  had  passed,  by  which  the  innocence  of  Jesus 
was  placed  in  so  clear  a  light,  that  his  mediating  proposition 
would  have  been  responded  to.  But  no ;  God  had  determined 
otherwise.  It  was  intended  that  Christ  should  suffer  as  a 
criminal  of  the  worst  description,  and  that  the  lot  of  a  murderer 
and  an  outcast  of  the  human  race,  should  be  his,  and  that  not 
till  then,  should  the  hour  of  redemption  arrive.  But  why  was 
this?  For  what  other  reason  than  that,  according  to  God's 
counsel  and  will,  sinners  and  criminals,  like  Manasses  and 
Rahab,  might  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  great  Surety 
suffered  for  them  also.  Jesus  was  obliged  to  descend  into  the 
regions  of  darkness,  into  the  being  abandoned  by  God,  and 
into  the  extreme  of  ignominy  and  suffering,  that  the  vilest  trans- 
gressors might  not  despair  of  mercy. 

If  this  doctrine  is  dangerous,  why  do  the  apostles  proclaim  it 
as  from  the  housetops?  If  it  is  contrary  to  God,  why  has  he 
confirmed  it  in  the  case  of  David,  Saul,  Mary  Magdalen,  and 
even  in  that  of  greater  sinners  than  these  ?  If  it  is  pernicious,^ 
why  do  those  who  in  themselves  experience  the  truth  of  it, 
exceed  all  others  in  their  hatred  to  sin,  and  their  zeal  for  God 


286  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

and  his  glory  ?  Does  it  make  them  negligent  and  unfraitfi  1  in 
good  works  ?  The  very  reverse  ;  for  he  that  participates  in  the 
merits  of  Christ,  becomes  also  by  Christ's  Spirit,  a  noble  tree 
in  the  garden  of  God,  which  brings  forth  its  fruit  in  its  season. 
0  it  is  well  for  us  that  the  case  is  as  we  have  described  it !  If 
Christ  had  not  endured  the  fate  of  the  chief  of  sinners,  who,  even 
among  the  enlightened,  could  glory  in  Christ,  since  the  Holy 
Spirit  teaches  all  such  to  testify  with  Paul,  "  Christ  came  into 
the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom  I  am  chief!" 

Pilate  has  done  us  a  good  office.  Not  only  has  he  cleared  us 
from  a  grievous  accusation,  but,  by  the  testimony  he  bore  to  the 
innocence  of  Jesus,  he  has  also  justified  our  view  of  the  Lord's 
death  and  its  import ;  and  by  his  fruitless  attempts  to  treat  the 
Kedeemer  as  a  petty  offender,  he  gave  occasion  to  the  Judge  on 
the  tin-one  of  majesty  to  frustrate  his  project,  and  by  so  doing, 
to  make  it  known  that  Christ  was  to  bear  the  curse  even  of 
•the  greatest  sinner,  according  to  the  will  and  counsel  of  the 
Almighty.  We  feel  ourselves  deeply  indebted  to  the  Roman  for 
the  two  last  pieces  of  service  which  he  has  rendered  us,  for  we 
confess  that,  with  the  atonement  and  satisfaction  made  by 
Immanuel,  our  peace  as  well  as  our  hope  stands  or  falls. 


XXXIII. 

JESUS    OR    BARABBAS. 

We  resume  our  place  amid  the  wild  and  tumultuous  assem- 
blage before  Gabbatha,  the  open  court,  where  justice  was  wont 
to  be  administered.  Pilate,  who,  the  more  he  has  to  do  with  the 
dignified  Man  of  Nazareth,  is  the  more  convinced  of  his  perfect 
innocence,  and  whose  reverence  for  the  mysterious  personage 
increases,  continues  his  attempts  to  give  the  affair  a  favorable 
turn,  both  for  the  accused  and  himself.  His  very  soul  revolts  at 
the  idea  of  such  a  person  dying  the  death  of  a  criminal.  Not  a 
few  of  our  cotemporaries  resemble  him  in  this  respect.  They 
are  those  who,  like  Pilate,  speak  of  the  moral  glory  of  Chiist 


JESUS   OR   BARABBAS.  287 

• 

with  a  degree  of  enthusiasm,  but  the  more  they  regard  him  from 
this  point  of  view,  the  more  they  are  offended  at  his  cross.  They 
feel  a  repugnance  to  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement  made  by  him 
for  our  sins,  simply  because  they  wish  sin  to  bo  regarded  as  an 
inconsiderable  and  trifling  object,  which  they  would  be  con- 
strained to  view  as  something  important  and  horrible,  if  they 
were  compelled  to  believe  that  it  could  only  be  forgiven  through 
the  condemnation  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  atoned  for  by  Ins  blood. 
Those  who  are  unable  to  absolve  themselves,  as  entirely  free  from 
sin,  would  then  be  forced  either  to  take  refuge  with  us  in  the 
wounds  of  Jesus,  and  to  sue  for  pardon  with  the  vilest  male- 
factors, of  which  they  have  a  horror,  or  carry  about  with  them 
a  smitten  and  uneasy  conscience,   to  which  they  are  equally 

.  Hence  it  is  altogether  their  interest  to  oppose  the  doc-  . 
trine  that  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ  must  be  apprehended 
as  vicarious.  Nay,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm  that  all  the  doc- 
trinal systems  which  seek  to  neutralize  or  evade  the  view  of 
Christ's  sufferings  as  an  atonement,  proceed  from  a  conscious  or 
unconscious  effort  to  weaken  *and  lessen  the  enormity  of  sin. 
Those  who  are  still  satisfied  with  such  systems,  are  not  aware  of 
the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin.  But  those  who  have  become 
acquainted  with  its  abominable  nature  in  the  sight  of  God,  see  the 
necessity  of  Christ's  sufferings,  and  being  justified  by  faith,  have 
peace  with  God,  through  the  atonement  made  for  us  by  his  Son. 

The  governor  is  lost  in  thought ;  his  forehead  burns ;  his  mind 
is  distressed.  What  would  he  -not  give  for  wise  counsel  in  this 
painful  emergency  ?  All  at  once  the  horizon  of  his  soul  clears 
up.  He  has  hit  upon  a  happy  expedient,  the  idea  of  which  did 
not  occur  to  him  without  superior  intervention.  Pilate  calls  to 
mind  a  custom  which,  though  it  was  not  founded  on  any  divine 
ordinance,  the  Lord  indulgently  overlooked  and  bore  with,  from 
being  willing  to  make  use  of  it  as  the  symbol  of  something  of  a 
superior  nature.  According  to  this  custom  it  was  permitted  the 
people — as  a  figurative  realization  of  the  deliverance  of  their  fore- 
out  of  Egypt,  and  to  increase  the  general  joy  at  the  festi- 
val— to  ask  for  the  liberation  of  some  grievous  offender  from 
prison.  Pilate  grasps  at  this  custom,  like  a  shipwrecked  mariner 
the  floating  plank,  as  the  only  means  of  deliverance  which  is  left 


288  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

him.  He  hastily  passes  through  his  mind  the  various  receptacle? 
of  crime,  in  order  to  discover  in  them  some  malefactor  whom  he 
may  confidently  hope  the  people  will  never  prefer  to  the 
Nazarene.  He  soon  thinks  he  has  found  such  a  one,  or  rather, 
God  found  him  for  him ;  for  this  was  the  very  sinner  whom  the 
Lord  deemed  fit  for  the  spectacle  which  was  then  to  be  presented 
to  the  world.  The  man  thus  selected  is  Barabbas,  a  vile  mis- 
creant, a  rebel,  and  a  murderer.  Who,  thinks  the  governor, 
would  grant  life  and  liberty  to  such  an  outcast  of  mankind,  in 
preference  to  the  just  Man  of  Nazareth  ?  Pilate  reckons  upon 
the  humanity  and  right-feeling  of  the  multitude ;  but  it  is  much 
to  be  .feared  that  he  has  dreadfully  miscalculated,  particularly  as 
he  has  chosen  a  political  offender  as  the  means  of  escaping  from 
his  painful  situation,  with  reference  to  whom  the  morality  of  the 
people  is  generally  wont  to  be  much  more  indulgent  than  to  any 
other  kind  of  criminals. 

Already  secretly  triumphing  in  the  expected  success  of  his 
plan,  Pilate  proceeds  to  the  Proscenium,  and  in  a  tone  of  the 
fullest  assurance  of  success,  calls  f»ut  to  the  crowd,  "  Whom  will 
ye  that  I  release  unto  you  ?  Jesus  Barabbas  (for  such  was  the 
man's  whole  name,  according  to  an  ancient  tradition)  or  Jesus 
the  King  of  the  Jews,  which  is  called  Christ.  For,"  adds  the 
Gospel  narrative,  "  he  knew  that  the  chief  priests  had  delivered 
him  from  envy."  And  such  was  actually  the  case;  for  that 
which  vexed  them  the  most  was,  that  the  people  followed  liim. 
But  how  foolishly  did  the  governor  act,  though  otherwise  so 
prudent,  in  reminding  the  proud  men,  by  calling  him  "The 
King  of  the  Jews,"  how  his  way  had  but  recently  been  strewn 
with  palm-branches  and  garments,  amid  the  hosannas  of  the 
people ;  and  how  did  he  thus  ruin  him  without  intending  it !  But 
his  speculation  would  have  been  a  failure  without  that;  for 
"  God  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own  craftiness"  who,  disdaining 
the  restraint  of  his  word  and  will,  seek  success  by  their  own  in- 
ventions. The  Saviour's  fate  is  now  no  longer  in  Pilate's  hands. 
The  majority  of  the  multitude  decides,  and  he  is  obliged  to  abide 
by  its  decision.  Had  he  been  bold  enough  to  follow  the  dictate 
of  his  own  conscience,  and  to  have  said  with  calm  discrimination, 
"  Justice  shall  be   done,  even  though  the  world  should  perish ; 


JESUS    OR   BARABBAS.  28y 

the  guiltless  N&zarene  is  free,  and  these  cohorts  here  will  know 
how  to  give  effect  to  my  decision ;"  his  opponents,  inwardly  re- 
buked, would,  doubtless,  have  shrunk  back  thunderstruck,  and 
the  people,  roused  from  their  delusion,  would  have  loudly  ap- 
plauded the  energetic  judge.  But  Pilate  now  stands  forever  as 
a  warning  example  of  the  consequence  of  endeavoring  to  satisfy 
both  God,  who  speaks  within  us,  and  the  world. 

We  meet  with  Pilate  under  various  forms  on  the  stage  of  the 
world  in  the  present  day.  Many  a  one,  in  recent  times,  has 
placed  himself,  like  him,  in  a  situation  in  which  he  must  either 
set  Barabbas  free,  or  give  up  the  Saviour,  because  he  was  defi- 
cient in  courage  to  brave  every  danger  for  the  sake  of  Christ. 
Many,  reckoning,  like  Pilate,  on  the  instinctive  moral  feeling  of 
the  multitude,  with  whom  they  do  not  wish  to  be  at  variance, 
have  cowardly  asked,  "  Which  will  you  choose,  right  or  wrong, 
loyalty  or  treason?  God's  order  or  its  overthrow?"  and  the 
unexpected  reply  has  been  thundered  back  to  them,  "  We  choose 
rebellion  and  treason!"  and  before  they  were  aware,  they  had 
miserably  stumbled,  to  their  own  dismay,  on  the  slippery  path 
of  wishing  to  please  men,  and  looked  about  in  vain  for  the  pos- 
sibility of  escape.  Let  us,  therefore,  hold  fast,  my  readers,  to 
what  we  know  to  be  right.  We  thus  become  masters  of  our 
position  and  of  the  multitude,  instead  of  being  their  servants. 
For  degeneracy  invariably  yields  to  sacred  courage,  however 
outrageously  it  may  be  acting.  We  are  sure  to  overcome  when 
we  act  resolutely,  although  we  seem  to  succumb ;  for  God  is 
always  with  those  who  are  decidedly  with  him,  while  he  suffers 
those  to  fall  who  endeavor  "  to  serve  two  masters." 

"Whom  will  ye  that  I  release  unto  you?"  exclaims  Pilate, 
seating  himself  on  the  marble  judgment-seat  to  await  the  de- 
cision of  the  people.  The  latter  waver  and  hesitate,  which  is 
no  sooner  perceived  by  the  priests  and  elders  than  they  rush  into 
the  crowd  and  exert  all  their  eloquence  to  stifle  the  germ  of 
right  feeling  which  begins  to  awake  in  their  minds,  and  to  blow 
into  a  flame  the  dying  spark  of  animosity  to  Jesus.  Meanwhile, 
a  remarkable  episode  takes  place.  A  messenger,  out  of  breath. 
appears  before  the  governor,  sent  by  his  wife,  who  is  com- 
missioned to  say  to  him,  "  Have  thou  nothing  to  do  with  that 

13 


290  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 


just  man,  for  I  have  suffered  many  things  this  night  in  a  dream 
because  of  him."  What  a  remarkable  circumstance!  The 
brightness  of  the  purity  and  glory  of  the  fairest  of  the  children 
of  men  was  such  as  to  penetrate  into  the  heathen  woman's  world 
of  dreams.  We  thus  see  how  the  life  and  actions  of  Jesus  must 
have  affected  the  hearts  of  those  who  were  indifferent  and  even 
opposed  to  Mm,  and  compelled  them  to  respect  him.  Yes,  by 
night,  when  the  bustle  of  the  day  is  silent,  and  deep  sleep  falls 
upon  men,  the  Spirit  of  Truth  visits  their  tabernacles,  and  ap- 
proaches the  couches  even  of  those  who,  careless  about  higher 
objects,  revel  in  the  intoxication  of  worldly  delusions.  With 
the  arrows  of  his  judicial  decision,  he  pierces  by  night  into 
chambers,  where  all  that  has  reference  to  things  of  a  higher 
nature  otherwise  finds  no  response.  By  night,  ill-treated  con- 
science assumes  its  right,  and  makes  itself  again  heard,  even  in 
the  breasts  of  the  most  ungodly ;  and  many  are  obliged  to  con- 
fess with  the  Psalmist,  "Thou  searchest  my  Jaeart,  and  visitest 
me  in  the  night  season."  God  had  also  evidently  his  hand  in 
the  distressing  night-vision  of  Pilate's  consort,  and  often  exer- 
cises control  over  the  airy  region  of  the  world 'of  dreams,  and 
when  he  pleases  makes  the  imagination  of  the  unfettered  spirit 
subservient  to  his  purpose.  But  though  Pilate  received  a  fresh 
divine  warning  and  monition  by  the  message  from  his  wife,  yet 
the  man  had  already  laid  down  his  arms,  and  was  no  longer 
his  own  master.  His  wife's  communication  affected  him  deeply. 
His  excited  conscience  whispered  to  him,  "  Pilate,  listen  to  the 
voice  from  another  world,  which  warns  thee  against  the  horrible 
crime  of  a  legal  murder."  He  hears  it,  indeed,  and  is  dreadfully 
disturbed,  but  hopes  the  people  will  act  justly.  The  people? 
Poor  man !     Is  this  thy  last  despicable  hope  ? 

Pilate  impatiently  rises  from  his  seat,  and  again  calls  out  to 
the  crowd  with  the  mien  of  a  suppliant,  "  Which  of  the  twain 
will  ye  that  I  release  unto  you  ?"  We  may  easily  infer  that  he 
added  in  his  own  mind,  "You  will  surely  decide  for  Jesus." 
But  it  is  in  vain  to  come  with  requests,  where  we  have  not  the 
courage,  in  God's  name,  to  order  and  command.  The  priests 
and  elders  have  succeeded  in  instigating  the  people  to  side 
with  them,   and    the  unfortunate    governor    hears  a  thousand 


JESUS    OR    BAR  ABBAS.  291 

voices  unanimously  and  daringly  reply,  "Not  this  man,  but 
Barabbas." 

Such  are  the  two  individuals  presented  to  the  people  to  choose 
from  at  their  Easter  festival.  The  man  in  chains  and  the  Prince 
of  Life ;  the  former  a  vile  wretch,  who  in  a  sanguinary  revolt, 
had  been  seized  in  the  act  of  committing  murder.  He  had 
probably  acted  the  part  of  a  false  Messiah;  and  had  exhibited 
one  of  those  caricatures  of  (jhrist,  by  means  of  which  Satan 
had  so  often  attempted  to  render  the  true  Messiah  suspected, 
and  an  object  of  public  ridicule.  But  Barabbas  does  not  stand 
before  us  merely  as  an  individual.  He  represents,  at  the  same 
time,  allegorically,  the  human  race  in  its  present  condition — as 
fallen  from  God — in  a  state  of  rebellion  against  the  Divine 
Majesty — bound  in  the  fetters  of  the  curse  of  the  law  till  the  day 
of  judgment;  but  nevertheless  dignifying  itself  with  pompous 
titles,  without  any  real  nobility  of  soul,  and  boasting  of  honor- 
able distinctions  without  internal  worth. 

Before  Barabbas  was  presented  with  Jesus  to  the  people's 
choice,  every  prospect  of  his  escape  from  the  fate  that  awaited 
him  had  been  cut  off:  and  such  is  also  our  case.  There  was 
no  idea  of  a  ransom,  nor  of  any  liberation  from  the  well-guarded 
dungeon,  much  less  of  a  merciful  sentence,  winch  every  one  else 
might  have  anticipated  sooner  than  this  murderer.  And  believe 
me,  that  our  case  was  not  less  critical  than  his.  For  what  had 
we  to  give  to  redeem  our  souls?  how  escape  the  vigilance  of 
those  eyes,  which  "  run  to  and  fro  through  all  the  earth  ?"  and 
how  could  a  judge  acquit  us  unconditionally,  of  whom  it  is  said, 
"Justice  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne?" 
Barabbas's  situation  was  desperate,  and  ours  no  less.  But 
what  occurs?  Without  his  own  co-operation,  and  against  all 
his  calculation,  a  dawn  of  escape  suddenly  flashes  through  his 
prison.  From  Gabbatha  resounds  the  governor's  question  to 
the  people,  "  Whom  will  ye  that  I  release  unto  you?  Barabbas, 
or  Jesus,  which  is  called  Christ." 

How  important  the  moment !  How  mysterious  the  change 
in  the  state  of  things!  Barabbas  thought  that  he  should  cer- 
tainly be  put  to  death.  It  is  now  Barabbas  or  Jesus.  The 
deliverance  of  the  former  has  at  least  become  possible ;   and  by 


292  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

what  means?  Solely  because  the  rebel  and  the  murderer  ia 
offered  to  the  choice  of  the  people  equally  with  Jesus,  the  Lord 
from  heaven.  The  lot  must  fall  on  one  or  the  other.  One  will 
be  released ;  the  other  sent  to  the  place  of  execution.  There 
is  nothing  to  justify  a  demand  for  the  liberation  of  both. 
Which  of  the  two  will  be  chosen — which  rejected  ?  If  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  is  set  at  liberty,  Barabbas  is  inevitably  lost.  If  the 
former  is  rejected,  then,  hail  to  thee,  Barabbas,  thou  art 
saved  1  His  ruin  is  thy  redemption ;  from  his  death  springs  thy 
life. 

What  say  you,  my  readers,  to  this  state  of  things  ?  Viewed 
solely  in  a  historical  light,  it  is  certainly  of  minor  importance, 
except  that  it  serves  as  a  renewed  proof  that  the  Son  of  God 
was  spared  no  disgrace  nor  humiliation — not  even  that  of  being 
placed  on  the  same  footing  with  a  murderer,  like  Barabbas. 
But  regarded  in  a  superior  light,  that  historical  fact  becomes  of 
great  importance.  In  the  position  in  which  Barabbas  stood  to 
Jesus,  we  all  of  us  stood  to  Him.  With  respect  to  us,  it  migh| 
also  have  been  said,  "  Who  shall  die — the  transgressor  or  the 
Just  One?"  It  was  impossible  that  both  should  be  spared. 
The  sword  of  divine  justice  must  strike,  either  to  the  right  or 
the  left.  The  curse,  which  we  had  incurred,  must  be  inflicted. 
The  sentence  of  condemnation  pronounced  upon  us,  impatiently 
waited  its  execution,  that  God  might  continue  holy,  just,  and 
true.  Here  was  the  great  alternative :  these  guilty  creatures, 
or  the  Son  of  God  in  their  stead,  for  he  alone  was  able  to  atone 
for  our  sins.  Thus  we  were  quite  in  Barabbas's  position. 
If  Jesus  was  sent  to  execution,  the  hour  of  our  redemption  had 
arrived ;  but  if  he  was  spared  we  were  irrevocably  lost. 

You  already  know  the  result,  The  affair  takes  the  most 
favorable  turn  for  Barabbas,  and  in  him,  for  us.  To  Pilate's 
utter  amazement,  the  voice  of  the  multitude  decides  in  favor  of 
the  rebel.  "  Eclcase  Barabbas !"  cried  the  uproarious  crowd, 
"  and  crucify  Jesus."  However  wicked  this  decision  may  ap- 
pear, compared  with  that  of  Pilate,  who  was  anxious  that  Jesus 
should  live,  and  not  be  put  to  death ;  still  it  was  more  in  accord- 
ance with  God's  plan,  and  the  method  of  salvation  that  it 
should  be  so.     For  if  the  people  had  effectually  demanded  Jesus 


JESUS    OR   BAR  ABB  AS.  293 

to  be  liberated,  and  Barabbas  to  be  executed,  as  Pilate  wished, 
that  demand  would  have  been  the  funeral-knell  of  the  human 
and  the  signal  for  our  eternal  perdition.  But  God  so 
ordered  it  that  the  affair  took  a  different  turn;  for  the  outcry  of 
the  people  to  crucify  Je*sus  was  the  trumpet-sound  announcing 
the  day  of  our  redemption. 

Observe  now  the  result  of  the  decision.  Barabbas  and  Jesus 
change  places.  The  murderer's  bonds,  curse,  disgrace,  and 
mortal  agony  are  transferred  to  the  righteous  Jesus;  while  the 
liberty,  innocence,  safety,  and  well-being  of  the  immaculate 
Nazarene,  become  the  lot  of  the  murderer.  Jesus  Barabbas  is 
installed  in  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of  Jesus  Christ ;  while 
the  latter  enters  upon  all  the  infamy  and  horror  of  the  rebel's 
position.  Both  mutually  inherit  each  other's  situation  and  what 
they  possess :  the  delinquent's  guilt  and  cross  become  the  lot  of 
the  Just  One,  and  all  the  civil  rights  and  immunities  of  the 
latter  are  the  property  of  the  delinquent. 

You  now  understand  the  amazing  scene  we  have  been  con- 
templating. We  find  the  key  to  it  in  the  words,  "  God  made 
him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made 
the  righteousness  of  God  in  him."  It  places  before  us,  in  a 
Strong  light,  the  mystery  of  our  justification  before  God,  through 
the  mediation  of  Christ.  In  Barabbas's  deliverance,  we  see  our 
own.  Left  to  ourselves,  we  should  have  been  eternally  lost. 
"When  Christ  exchanged  positions  with  us,  our  redemption  was 
decided.  Truly,  he  must  be  blind  who  does  not  perceive  that 
in  this  Barabbas  scene,  a  light  was  divinely  enkindled,  which 
should  illumine  the  whole  of  the  passion  of  God's  only-begotten 
Son.  This  light  would  alone  suffice  to  dispel  every  objection  to 
the  scriptural  nature  of  our  view  of  the  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment, if  this  were  not  also  done  by  a  whole  series  of  striking 
iges  from  the  apostolic  writings.  We  certainly  will  not 
entirely  deny  that  our  idea  of  Christ's  atonement  may  not  in- 
clude in  it  much  that  is  human  and  gross,  which  will  eventually 
be  swallowed  up  by  the  pure  and  perfect  apprehension  of  it,  but 
there  is  nothing  false  or  erroneous  in  it.  The  pith  and  sub- 
stance of  our  judicial  view  of  the  suretyship  of  Jesus  is  most 
undoubtedly  divine  truth. 

I     UNh  /    J 


294  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Let  us  then  rejoice  that  such  is  the  case,  and  indelibly  impress 
upon  our  memories  the  striking  features  of  the  scene  we  have 
been  contemplating.  Let  those  of  my  readers  who  are  humbled 
under  a  sense  of  their  sin  and  guilt,  behold  their  image  in 
Barabbas ;  and  one  consolatory  idea  after  another  will  occur  to 
you  from  the  sight.  How  comfortable  the  reflection  that  the 
man  is  wholly  freed  at  the  expense  of  Jesus ;  that  however 
heinous  Ms  crimes,  not  one  of  them  attaches  to  him  any  longer ; 
that  henceforward,  no  judicial  procedure  can  be  instituted 
against  him  for  what  he  has  done;  and  that  nothing  now 
prevents  him  from  boldly  appearing  in  the  presence  of  his 
judge. 

You  also  possess  all  these  privileges  in  Christ,  only  in  a  more 
glorious  form  and  a  more  abundant  fullness.  Since  he  became 
the  criminal  in  your  stead,  you  are  accounted  as  righteous  for 
his  sake ;  since  he  was  rejected  in  your  stead,  you  are  admitted 
into  favor  with  God ;  since  he  bore  your  curse,  you  arc  the 
heirs  of  his  blessing;  since  he  suffered  your  punishment,  you 
are  destined  to  share  his  happiness.  Such  being  the  case,  how 
ought  you,  by  faith,  to  rise  into  the  blissful  position  assigned 
you,  and  to  learn  in  the  school  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  boldly  to  say 
with  the  apostle,  "Who  shall  lay  any  thing  to  the  charge  of 
God's  elect,  seeing  that  it  is  God  that  justifieth?  Who  is  he 
that  condemneth,  since  Christ  hath  died — yea  rather  is  risen 
again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also  maketh 
intercession  for  us?" 


XXXIY. 

BARABBAS. 

The  most  horrible  and  momentous  cry  that  was  ever  heard 
under  heaven  has  been  uttered.  To  the  governor's  question, 
"  Whom  will  ye  that  I  release  unto  you,  Jesus  or  Barabbas  ?" 
the  dreadful  answer  has  been  returned  by  the  tumultuous  crowd, 
"Away  with  this  man,  and  release  unto  us  Barabbas!"      More 


BARABBAS.  295 

than  an  echo  of  this  cry  resounds  through  the  world  to  this  day  ; 
for  all  who  daringly  reject  Christ  as  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  and 
are  eager  on  the  contrary  for  the  upholding  of  the  honor,  inde- 
pendence, and  liberty  of  their  "Old  Man,"  likewise  say,  in  facte, 
MAway  with  this  man,  and  release  unto  us  Barabbas!"  "But  is 
not  this  the  language  we  have  inherited  from  our  corrupt  nature, 
as  such?"  Undoubtedly  it  is.  Yet  even  from  the  lips  of  faith 
we  hear  the  same ;  only  that  in  the  latter  case,  the  exclamation 
has  an  opposite  meaning,  with  the  nature  of  which  we"  arc 
already  acquainted,  and  shall  hear  of  it  again  on  the  present 
occasion,  The  release  of  Barabbas  is  the  subject  of  our  medi- 
tation, which,  may  the  Lord  accompany  with  his  blessing,  that 
so  we  may  retire  from  it  laden  with  a  valuable  store,  like  the 
bee  from  the  flowery  meadow  or  the  fragrant  heath ! 

The  people,  instigated  by  their  rulers,  have  boldly  and  plainly 
expressed  their  will.  They  desire  the  pardon  of  the  murderer, 
and  the  death  of  the  righteous  Jesus.  From  that  moment,  it  is 
pitiable  to  see  how  the  judge,  entirely  thrown  out  of  his  course, 
sinks  deeper  at  every  step,  and  writhes  in  the  dust,  like  a  help- 
less worm  that  has  keen  trodden  upon.  Scarcely  aware  any 
longer  of  what  he  was  saying,  he  cries  out,  "  What  shall  I  do  then 
with  Jesus,  which  is  called  Christ  ?"  Only  think  of  Ms  asking 
the  raging  multitude  what  he  must  do  with  Jesus,  who,  before 
he  put  the  question  to  them,  had  already  answered  him  in  the 
most  convincing  manner.  His  conscience,  his  inward  feeling  of 
justice,  the  letter  of  the  law  by  which  he  is  bound,  and  even  the 
warning  voice  contained  in  the  dream  of  his  wife — all  tell  him, 
clearly  and  definitely,  what  he  ought  to  do  with  Jesus.  He 
ought  to  pronounce  him  free,  and  then  with  all  the  power  that 
stood  at  his  command,  take  him  under  his  protection  against  the 
uproarious  multitude.  But  where  is  he  to  find  courage  for  this  ? 
"What  shall  I  do  then  with  Jesus?"  Truly  these  words  are 
an  eternal  shame  and  disgrace  to  him. 

But  how  many  of  our  cotemporaries  share  this  disgrace  with 
him,  since  they  make  what  they  ought  to  do  with  Jesus  depend 
on  the  popular  voice,  the  prevailing  tone  of  society,  and  what  is 
called  public  opinion!  I  have  even  often  thought  I  heard 
preacheis  in  their  pulpits  imitate  Pilate  in  asking,  "What  am  I 


296  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

to  do  with  Jesus  ?"  and  I  can  not  tell  you  how  discordantly  the 
question  sounded  in  my  ears.  They  did  not  appear  to  know 
whether  they  ought  to  pray  to  Jesus  or  not — whether  to  confess 
Mm  before  the  congregation  to  be  God,  or  only  man — whether 
to  recommend  him  to  them  as  redeemer  or  teacher;  and  nothing 
seemed  more  disagreeable  to  them  than  to  be  compelled  officially 
to  have  to  do  with  Jesus.  But  woe  unto  him  who  can  still  ask, 
"  What  shall  I  do  with  Jesus  ?"  Such  a  one's  mind  is  be- 
clouded, and  he  is  still  very  far  from  salvation.  He  who  knows 
not  what  to  make  of  Jesus  must  be  a  self-deceiving  Pharisee,  or 
his  soul  must  resemble  the  mole  that  grubs  in  the  earth.  What 
has  the  blind  man  to  do  with  his  guide  who  offers  him  his  arm  ? 
the  sick  man  with  the  medicine  presented  to  him  ?  the  drown- 
ing man  with  the  rope  that  is  thrown  to  him  ? — if  we  know  how 
to  answer  these  questions,  how  is  it  that  we  can  be  perplexed  at 
replying  to  the  other  ? 

Pilate  asks,  "  What  shall  I  do  with  Jesus  ?"  The  people  will 
not  leave  him  long  in  suspense.  The  more  they  see  their  rulers 
timidly  give  way,  and  enter  upon  the  path  of  concessions,  the 
stronger  grows  their  audacity.  "  Crucify  him ! "  they  cry, 
briefly  and  decisively.  The  governor,  beside  himself  with 
amazement  at  seeing  the  fabric  of  his  calculations  so  suddenly 
overthrown,  comes  again  before  them  with  the  unavailing  ques- 
tion, "  Why,  what  evil  hath  he  done  ?"  But  the  people,  scarcely 
deigning  an  answer  to  the  miserable  judge,  repeat,  with  still 
greater  insolence,  "  Crucify  him  1  Crucify  him  I"  The  increas- 
ing weakness  and  irresolution  of  the  governor  necessarily  made 
the  crowd  believe  that  he  himself  did  not  regard  it  as  any  mon- 
strous crime  that  Christ  should  be  crucified. 

Pilate  appears  as  if  he  wished  to  say  something  more ;  but 
the  people  have  now  the  upper  hand,  and  they  refuse  to  hear 
him.  Wild  uproar  drowns  his  voice.  In  spite  of  every  effort,  he 
can  no  longer  make  himself  heard.  The  heartless  succumbing 
man  has  then  recourse  to  a  symbolical  act.  He  calls  for  a 
vessel  with  water;  and,  on  its  being  presented  to  him,  washes 
his  hands  before  all  the  people,  and  cries  out,  as  loudly  as  he 
can,  to  the  tumultuous  mob,  "  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this 
just  person ;  see  ye  to  it !" 


BAR  ABB  AS.  297 

An  exciting  scene !  Tliis  renewed  judicial  testimony  to  the 
innocence  of  our  great  High  Priest,  is  to  us  very  satisfactory. 
Pilate's  urgent  desire  and  earnest  endeavor  to  rid  himself  of  the 
crime  of  condemning  the  righteous  Jesus  can  only  aid  in  strength- 
ening  our  faith.  But  we  are  deeply  affected  at  the  sight  of  the 
poor  depressed  man — how  he  writhes  under  the  scourge  of  his 
own  conscience,  and  ineffectually  strives  to  wash  away  from  his 
hands  the  bloody  spots,  however  much  he  may  object  to  ac- 
knowledge them.  "I  am  innocent!"  he  exclaims.  But*  what 
avails  such  an  assertion?  The  monitor  in  his  bosom  does  not 
confirm  it ;  and  though  he  were  to  do  so,  yet  the  minutes  of  the 
proceedings  are  referred  to  a  higher  tribunal,  where  the  decision 
will  sound  very  differently.  He  washes  his  hands.  0  why  this 
iony?  Where  is  the  fountain  which  yields  water  able  to 
cleanse  from  spots  like  those  that  adhere  to  him?  There  is 
indeed  a  stream  which  would  have  produced  the  desired  effect, 
but  Pilate  is  ignorant  of  it.  0  that  he  had  directed  to  himself 
the  words  he  addressed  to  the  Jews  in  addition  to  his  testi- 
mony, and  had  said,  "  See  thou  to  it,"  instead  of  "  See  ye  to  it !" 
If,  in  lieu  of  his  innocence  he  had  professed  his  guilt,  and  instead 
of  the  unavailing  washing,  had  resorted  to  the  blood  of  atone- 
ment— then  he  would  have  been  safe  for  time  and  eternity,  and 
his  name  have  secured  a  place,  not  merely  as  now,  in  the 
Church's  creed,  but  also  in  the  list  of  the  citizens  of  Christ's  king- 
dom. But  Pilate,  under  the  influence  of  beggarly  pride,  will 
not  acknowledge  himself  as  overcome,  although  hell  and  the 
world  never  set  their  feet  more  triumphantly  on  the  neck  of  a 
more  discomfited  man  than  he.  But  man  is  by  nature  so  con- 
stituted that  he  would  rather  give  himself  up  to  Satan  in  the 
snare  of  the  most  idiotic  self-delusion  than  do  honor  to  the 
truth,  which  humbles  him  for  his  good. 

"  See  ye  to  it !"  exclaims  Pilate,  hurling  the  entire  impious 
act  on  the  heads  of  the  Jews ;  thereby  returning  upon  the  priests 
and  scribes — not  without  God's  permission  "to  whom  vengeance 
belongeth" — with  increased  horrors,  the  very  words  with  which 
erst,  with  cruel  and  unpitying  coldness,  repelled  the  de- 
spairing Judas.  They  feel  indeed  the  sting  of  those  words,  but 
know  how  to  conceal  their  embarrassment  and  shame  behind  a 

13* 


298  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Horrible  outburst  of  impiety.  "His  blood  be  upon  us  and  our 
children !"  they  cry,  in  Satanic  defiance,  and  all  the  people  join 
with  them. 

Dreadful  indeed !  As  long  as  the  world  stands,  a  more  hor- 
rifying, self-anathematizing  speech  has  never  been  heard.  But 
listen !  Does  it  not  seem  to  you  as  if  a  voice  of  thunder  sounded 
clown  from  the  throne  of  Deity,  crying  out,  "Be  it  unto  you 
according  to  your  wish !  Let  his  blood  come  upon  you  as  you 
desire!"  And  oh!  only  cast  a  glance  at  the  history  of  Israel 
from  the  moment  when  that  unhappy  demand  was  made  upon 
Him  who  does  not  suffer  himself  to  be  mocked,  to  the  present 
hour,  and  it  will  prove  that  you  heard  correctly.  How  did  the 
blood  of  that  Righteous  One  come  upon  his  murderers,  when  the 
proud  city  of  Jerusalem  was  laid  in  ashes  by  the  torches  of  the 
Romans,  and  scarcely  so  much  wood  could  be  procured  as  suf- 
ficed to  prepare  crosses  for  the  children  of  Abraham !  How  did 
it  come  upon  them,  when,  having  slain  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
they  were  driven  out,  like  useless  chaff,  to  the  four  winds  of 
heaven,  and  condemned  thenceforward  to  roam  about  in  inhos- 
pitable regions,  without  a  home,  the  scorn  of  all  the  world !  How 
did  it  come  upon  them,  when,  as  the  offscouring  of  all  nations, 
and  as  if  they  were  unworthy  to  tread  the  ground,  they  yielded 
up  their  lives  by  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  under 
heathen,  Mohammedan,  and  even  Christian  swords  and  daggers ! 
And  when  we  now  look  at  them,  as  being  still  a  proscribed 
people,  according  to  Hosea's  prophecy,  "  Without  a  king  and 
without  a  prince,  and  without  sacrifice,  and  without  an  image, 
without  an  Ephod,  and  without  Teraphim" — is  it  not  as  if  we 
read  the  cause  of  their  miserable  banishment  on  their  foreheads, 
in  the  words,  "  His  blood  be  upon  us  and  upon  our  children  ?" 
But  the  mercy  of  God  is  great.  He  has  still  thoughts  of  peace 
oward  his  ancient  people,  who,  however  degenerate,  are  not 
yet  given  up.  In  due  time  he  will  cause  the  horrible  language 
of  the  curse  they  invoked  upon  themselves  to  have  the  validity 
of  a  prayer  in  his  sight,  and  the  blood  of  his  Son,  as  already 
experienced  by  individuals  of  that  race,  to  come  upon  all  Israel 
as  an  atonement.  The  prophet  Hosea  adds  the  joyful  promise 
to   the   threatening    so    dreadfully  verified:    "Afterward,   they 


BARABBAS.  299 

shall  return  and  seek  the  Lord  their  God,  and '  David  their 
king."  And  Zechariah  opens  to  us  the  prospect  of  a  time, 
n  ten  men  shall  take  hold,  out  of  all  languages  of  the 
nations,  of  the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a  Jew,  saying,  We  will  go 
with  you,  for  we  have  heard  that  God  is  with  you."  The  Lord 
himself  says,  in  the  most  significant  manner,  referring  to  the  ter- 
mination of  their  wretchedness,  "  Ye  shall  not  see  me  hence- 
forth, till  ye  shall  say,  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord  I"  And  what  is  the  language  of  the  apostle  Paul,  with 
reference  to  them.  "God,"  says  he,  "is  able  to  graft  in  again 
the  branches  which  were  broken  off.  For  the  gifts  and  calling 
of  God  are  without  repentance." — Eom.  xi. 

The  people,  with  diabolical  determination,  have  declared  their 
will,  and  sealed  their  fate  with  an  imprecation,  than  which  a 
more  impious  one  has  scarcely  ever  been  heard  in  the  world. 
The  governor  is  no  longer  able  to  cope  with  this  manifestation  of 
firmness  on  the  part  of  the  people.  He  sees  himself  robbed  of 
the  last  particle  of  his  moral  armor,  and  compelled  to  lay  down 
his  arms,  and  surrender  in  the  most  disgraceful  manner.  How 
do  we  read?  "And  so  Pilate,  willing  to  content  the  people, 
gave  sentence  that  it  should  be  as  they  required,  and  released 
unto  them  Barabbas,  who  for  sedition  and  murder  was  cast  into 
prison,  whom  they  had  desired,  but  he  delivered  Jesus  to  their 
will  that  he  should  be  scourged." 

Tins  is,  therefore,  the  result  of  all  the  serious  and  powerful 
warnings  which  had  been  given  to  Pilate.  He  had  received 
such  decided  impressions  of  Jesus's  moral  purity  and  innocence, 
and  had  even  been  admonished  by  a  voice  from  the  other  world, 
as  well  as  by  his  own  conscience  ;  and  yet  this  disgraceful  defeat 
— this  cowardly  retreat — this  shameful  yielding  to  the  will  of  the 
crowd  1  0  what  is  man  with  all  his  propriety  of  feeling  and 
will,  so  long  as  he  stands  in  his  own  strength,  and  has  not 
yielded  himself  up,  with  his  whole  confidence,  to  God  and  his 
grace  !  The  Lord  says,  "  My  strength  is  perfected  in  weakness ;" 
and  hence  we  find  St,  Paul  saying,  "I  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  strengthening  me." 

Barabbas  is  free,  although  still  ignorant  of  the  decision  made 
in  his  favor  outside  his  prison,  and  of  the  fortunate  lot  which  is 


300  THE   HOLY  PLACE. 

fallen  to  him.  Dejected,  and  even  despairing  of  deliverance,  he 
continues  lying  in  his  gloomy  dungeon  ;  and  in  every  noise  that 
1 3aches  him  from  a  distance,  he  imagines  he  hears  the  tread  of  the 
executioner  coming  to  lead  him  away  to  the  scaffold.  At  length 
he  plainly  hears  the  massive  bolts  of  his  prison  door  drawn  back, 
and  the  rusty  hinges  creak  on  its  being  thrown  open — but — dare 
he  trust  his  own  eye3  ?  What  a  sight !  Instead  of  the  execu- 
tioner, a  messenger  from  the  civil  authorities  rushes  in  with  a 
smiling  countenance,  and  brings  him  the  amazing  and  almost 
incredible  intelligence  that  he  is  free — that  his  life  is  saved. 
Scarcely  are  the  words  out  of  his  mouth,  before  he  begins  to 
loosen  the  fetters  from  the  astonished  delinquent,  and  urges  him 
to  rise  up  and  leave  the  prison.  You  may  suppose  that  the 
criminal  for  a  long  time  imagined  that  it  was  all  a  dream. 
Perhaps  he  thought  it  was  only  some  horrible  joke  played  off 
upon  him,  or  that  it  was  intended  he  should  breathe  the  fresh 
air  for  a  few  moments,  in  order  afterward  to  be  replaced  in  his 
horrible  dungeon.  But  the  messenger  repeats  still  more  em- 
phatically the  assurance  that  he  is  safe,  and  then  explains  to  him 
what  has  caused  his  liberation.  Barabbas  now  learns  that  the 
sentence  of  death  has  been  removed  from  him  forever,  and  that 
he  has  no  longer  to  do  with  courts  of  justice,  judges,  or  jailers; 
that  no  accusation  will  be  listened  to  against  him;  that  he 
is  restored  to  the  full  possession  of  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
citizenship,  and  so  situated  as  if  he  had  never  committed  a 
crime ;  but  that  the  sole  cause  of  this  happy  change  in  his  cir- 
cumstances lies  in  the  fact,  that  One  who  was  perfectly  guiltless 
had  taken  his  place,  and  trodden  the  path  to  the  cross  in  his 
stead.  The  people,  at  their  Easter  election,  had  decided  on  the 
death  of  this  righteous  man,  and  for  his  liberation. 

All  this  is  told  to  Barabbas.  In  the  herald  who  informs  him 
of  it,  we  see  the  image  of  a  true  evangelist.  Yes,  know  ye; 
spiritually  poor — ye  who  are  bending  under  the  weight  of  your 
transgressions,  and  are  crying  for  mercy — that  we  have  to  bring 
you  a  similar  message  to  that  which  Barabbas  received,  only  of 
a  far  greater,  more  glorious,  and  incomparably  more  blissful 
nature  than  his.  Nor  are  we  permitted  to  withhold  or  diminish 
it.  in  any  degree.     After  Christ  has  made  the  mysterious  exchange 


BARABBAS.  301 

With  you,  we  are  commissioned  of  God  to  inform  you,  in  plain 
.  that  from  the  moment  in  which  the  holy  Jesus  took  your 
place,  you  assumed  his,  and  are  installed  into  all  the  rights  and 
immunities  of  the  citizens  of  his  kingdom.  You  are  now  justi- 
fied in  the  sight  of  God,  and  accepted  of  him.  No  condemna- 
tion any  longer  attaches  to  you.  No  sin  will  any  more  be  laid 
to  your  charge,  no  accusation  given  ear  to  against  you.  This 
we  can  tell  you,  yet  not  we,  but  the  infallible  Word  of  God,  in 
plain  terms;  and  we  call  upon  you  in  God's  name  to  believe 
this  word,  and  to  rejoice  in  it  to  the  honor  of  Christ. 

How  does  Barabbas  act  after  receiving  the  glad  tidings? 
The  Bible  does  not  tell  us ;  but  we  may  easily  imagine  it.  If 
he  had  said  to  himself,  "It  is  impossible  that  this  can  have 
reference  to  such  a  criminal  as  I ;"  and  had  resisted,  when  his 
chains  were  being  removed,  how  should  we  designate  such 
conduct  ?  You  would  call  it  senseless,  and  be  justified  in  doing 
so.  But  I  fear  that  tins  reproach  may  attach  to  some  of  my 
readers ;  for  equally  foolish  are  many  of  our  believers.  Suppose 
that  Barabbas  had  rejected  the  message  with  a  protest,  and  had 
replied  to  the  herald  in  the  following  manner, — "  What  thou 
sayest  is  absurd,  and  can  not  be  founded  on  truth."  What 
would  have  been  the  consequence  ?  By  so  doing,  he  would 
have  insulted  the  herald  and  the  authorities  that  sent  him  in 
the  most  infamous  manner,  and  have  branded  them  as  liars. 
But  such  is  precisely  your  case,  my  friend,  who,  in  your 
legality,  resist  the  grace  of  God  in  Christ.  You  unceasingly 
offend,  not  merely  a  human  messenger,  but  the  Holy  Spirit,  who 
speaks  to  you  in  the  Scriptures ;  the  apostles  of  the  Lord,  who 
so  plainly  testify  to  you  of  Divine  mercy ;  and  Christ  himself, 
who  assures  you  that  whosoever  believeth  shall  be  saved.  Yes, 
you  infringe  upon  the  glory  of  God,  as  if  he  only  offered  you  a 
partial  deliverance,  and  had  not  wholly  and  completely  pro- 
vided it.  Suppose  that  Barabbas  had  replied  to  the  announce- 
ment of  his  liberty,  "No,  for  the  present  at  least,  I  will  not 
leave  my  prison,  but  will  first  become  another  man,  and  prove 
that  I  have  amended  myself."  What  do  you  suppose  the 
authorities  would  have  answered?  "Dost  thou  imagine,"  they 
would  have  said,    "  that  thou  art  liberated  for  thy  own  sake  ? 


302  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Thou  wouldst  never  have  been  free  on  that  ground.  Though  thou 
Brightest  have  become  ten  times  better,  thou  wouldst  never  be 
able  to  remove  the  guilt  thou  hast  contracted.  In  the  eye  of 
the  law,  thou  wouldst  continue  a  murderer  as  before;  and  if 
thou  dost  not  make  a  free  use  of  the  pardon  offered  thee,  know 
that  thou  wilt  vainly  calculate  upon  ever  being  legally  libe- 
rated." 

Take  to  heart,  my  dear  readers,  this  official  announcement, 
for  it  is  of  high  importance,  and  points  out  to  you  the  way  in 
which  you  ought  to  walk.  Suppose  Barabbas  had  said,  "  I  will 
remain  a  prisoner,  until,  after  being  injurious  to  society,  I  have 
shown  myself  a  useful  member  of  it."  This  might  have  sounded 
nobly;  but,  strictly  examined,  would  it  not  also  be  absurd? 
Doubtless  you  would  have  replied  to  him,  and  said,  "What 
folly!  before  thou  canst  become  useful  to  society,  thou  must 
become  free.  For,  of  what  service  or  benefit  canst  thou  be  to 
others,  as  long  as  thou  art  fettered  and  in  prison  ?"  Take  this 
lesson  also  to  heart,  my  friends.  It  is  applicable  to  so  many, 
who  foolishly  seek  to  become  holy  before  they  make  room  for 
the  comfort  of  pardoning  mercy. 

Probably,  however,  not  one  of  all  these  ideas  occurred  to 
Barabbas.  I  doubt  not,  that  on  receiving  the  joyful  message, 
he  gladly  accepted  it,  and  gave  himself  up  to  a  transport  of 
delight.  He  immediately  shook  off  his  chains,  left  his  dark 
dungeon,  exchanged  his  convict  dress  for  the  attire  of  a  citizen, 
and  made  every  use  of  the  liberty  offered  him.  He  returned  to 
his  family,  joying  and  rejoicing,  and  never  forgot  how  much 
he  was  indebted  to  the  mysterious  man  of  Nazareth  for  life, 
freedom,  and  all  that  he  possessed,  who  was  condemned  in  his 
stead,  and  by  Iris  death,  saved  his  life. 

And  you,  my  readers,  who,  like  Barabbas,  may  be  still  lan- 
guishing in  the  gloomy  dungeon  of  inward  anxiety,  care,  and 
sorrow,  go  and  do  likewise.  Believe  the  Grospel  message,  that 
for  Christ's  sake,  you  are  eternally  liberated  from  curse  and 
condemnation.  Listen  no  longer  to  the  accusations  of  Satan, 
•the  world,  or  your  own  consciences.  Enjoy  the  fruit  of  the 
suretyship  of  your  great  representative.  Live  in  peace,  and 
rejoice  in  hope  of  th  j  glory  of  God. 


XXXV. 

THE    SCOURGING. 

Tiie  path  of  t.ie  Holy  One  of  Israel  becomes  increasingly  dark 
and  obscure.  The  night-piece  of  his  passion  carries  us  from  the 
region  of  the  tragical  into  that  of  the  horrible  and  appalling. 
His  sufferings  increase  to  torture,  his  disgrace  to  infamy;  and 
the  words  of  Isaiah,  "  He  was  despised  and  rejected ;  and  we  hid, 
as  it  were,  our  faces  from  him,"  are  completely  realized.  We 
now  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  an  act  which  is  calculated 
to  make  the  blood  run  cold  in  our  veins.  It  is  the  scourging 
and  subsequent  crowning  with  thorns  of  the  righteous  Jesus. 
"We  draw  near  to  the  appalling  scene,  and  after  having  viewed 
it  historically,  we  will  endeavor  to  fathom  the  mystery  con- 
cealed under  it.  May  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  guide  us  into  all 
truth,  and  teach  us  to  penetrate  by  faith,  where  human  reason 
fails ! 

After  the  momentous  decision  has  been  made  at  G-abbatha, 
and  the  lot  of  the  murderer  has  fallen  upon  the  just :  the  latter 
is,  for  a  while,  removed  from  the  view  of  the  people,  having 
been  given  up  to  the  armed  band  of  executioners'  assistants,  and. 
led  away  by  them,  amid  wild  uproar,  like  a  sheep  for  the 
slaughter,  into  the  inner  court-yard  of  the  palace.  Thither  let 
us  follow  him,  although  we  do  so  with  reluctance ;  but  we  must 
be  witnesses  of  the  scene,  since  it  is  the  will  of  G-od  that  we 
should  be  aware  of  what  our  restoration  and  redemption  cost 
our  great  Surety. 

What  now  takes  place?  A  deed,  the  sight  of  which  might 
rend  even  nerves  of  steel  and  iron,  and  respecting  which,  a  feel- 
ing comes  over  us  as  if  it  were  improper  and  even  sinful  to  behold 
it  with  the  naked  eye.  Look  at  yonder  pillar,  black  with  the 
blood  of  murderers  and  rebels.  The  iron  collar  which  is  attached 
to  it,  as  well  as  the  ropes  which  hang  down  from  its  iron  rings, 
sufficiently  point  out  its  cruel  object.     Look  at  the  rude   and 


304  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

barbarous  beings,  who,  like  bloodthirsty  hyaenas  in  human  form, 
busily  surround  their  victim.  Observe  the  brutal  vulgarity  of 
their  countenances,  and  the  instruments  of  torture  in  their  hands. 
They  are  scourges,  made  of  hundreds  of  leathern  thongs,  each 
armed  at  the  point  with  an  angular  bony  hook  or  a  sharp-sided 
cube.  Such  are  the  instruments  of  torture  prepared  for  Him, 
who  was  dear  to  God,  as  the  apple  of  his  eye.  We  naturally 
think  he  could  not  and  ought  not  to  descend  to  such  a  point  of 
degradation,  but  that  all  heaven  must  interfere  to  prevent  it,  or 
that  the  world  must  perish  under  it  But  it  takes  place;  and 
neither  does  heaven  protest  against  it,  or  the  world  sink  into  ruin. 
See,  see — the  execution  of  the  sentence  begins !  Good  God, 
what  a  spectacle!  The  executioners  fall  upon  the  Holy  One 
like  a  host  of  devils.  They  tear  off  his  clothes ;  bind  those  hands 
which  were  ever  stretched  out  to  do  good,  tie  them  together 
upon  his  back,  press  his  gracious  visage  firmly  against  the  shame- 
ful pillar,  and  after  having  bound  him  with  ropes  in  such  a 
manner  that  he  can  not  move  or  stir,  they  begin  their  cruel  task. 
0  do  not  imagine  that  I  am  able  to  depict  to  you  what  now 
occurs.  The  scene  is  too  horrible.  My  whole  soul  trembles  and 
quakes.  Neither  wish  that  I  should  count  to  you  the  number  of 
strokes  which  are  now  poured  upon  the  sacred  body  of  Immanuel, 
or  describe  the  torments,  which,  increasing  with  every  stroke, 
sufficed  in  other  cases  of  this  kind,  to  cause  the  death  of  the  un- 
happy culprit,  before  the  formal  execution  which  this  scourging 
usually  preceded.  It  is  enough  for  us  to  know  that  it  lasted  full 
a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  streams  of  blood  flow  from  his  sacred  form. 
What  avails  it?  The  scourging  continues  without  mercy.  The 
arms  of  the  barbarous  men  begin  to  grow  weary.  What  signi- 
fies that?  New  tormentors  release  those  that  are  fatigued. 
There  is  not  a  nerve  of  the  divine  sufferer  that  does  not  thrill 
with  nameless  pain  and  smart.  But  such  is  the  intention.  The 
scourges  cut  ever  deeper  into  the  wounds  already  made,  and 
penetrate  almost  to  the  marrow.  His  whole  back  appears  an 
enormous  wound.  Each  fresh  drop  of  blood  which  flows  from 
his  opened  veins,  falls  like  a  drop  of  oil — not  into  the  fire  of  pity, 
which  these  men  know  not,  but  into  that  of  their  infernal  fury 
and  thirst  for  blood;    and  that  which  they  at  first  performed 


THE   SCOURGING.  305 

with  a  kind  of  seriousness  and  solemnity,  they  proceed  with, 
after  the  last  remains  of  humanity  are  choked  within  them, 
as  an  amusement,  with  shouts  of  horrid  mirth  and  glee. 
No  abyss  yawns  to  receive  these  bloodhounds.  Certainly, 
there  must  be  no  God — no  avenger  of  innocence  in  heaven, 
or,  as  we  have  often  already  seen,  the  passion  of  our  Lord 
must  have  a  most  extraordinary  and  profoundly  mysterious 
meaning. 

After  the  horrible  act  is  finished,  another  instantly  follows, 
which  almost  exceeds  it  in  cruelty.  The  agonized  sufferer  is 
unbound  from  the  bloody  pillar,  but  only  to  be  tortured  afresh. 
The  material  rods  have  done  their  duty,  and  mental  ones  of  the 
bitterest  and  most  poignant  mockery  are  now  employed  against 
him.  Their  ridicule  is  directed  against  his  kingly  dignity,  even 
as  it  was,  on  a  former  occasion,  against  his^  prophetic  office.  A 
worn-out  purple  robe,  once  the  garment  of  the  leader  of  a 
Roman  cohort,  is  produced.  This  is  thrown  over  his  back  still 
bleeding  from  every  pore,  while  the  barbarians  exult  aloud  at 
this  supposed  witty  and  appropriate  idea.  They  then  break  off 
twigs  from  a  long-spiked  thorn-bush,  and  twist  them  into  a 
circle,  which  is  afterward  pressed  upon  his  sacred  head  as  a 
crown.  But  in  order  to  complete  the  image  of  a  mock  king, 
they  put  into  his  hands  a  reed  instead  of  a  scepter,  and  after 
having  thus  arrayed  him,  they  pay  mock  homage  to  him  with 
shouts  of  derisive  laughter.  The  miscreants  bow  with  pre- 
tended reverence  to  the  object  of  their"  scorn,  bend  the  knee 
before  him,  and  to  make  the  mockery  complete,  cry  out  again 
and  again,  "  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews !"  It  is  not  long,  however, 
before  they  are  weary  of  this  abominable  sport,  and  turn  it  into 
fearful  seriousness.  With  Satanic  insolence,  they  place  them- 
selves before  their  ill-treated  captive,  make  the  most  horrible 
grimaces  at  him,  even  spit  in  his  face,  and  in  order  to  fill  up  the 
measure  of  their  cruelty,  they  snatch  the  reed  out  of  his  hands, 
and  repeatedly  smite  him  with  it  on  the  head,  so  that  the  thorns 
of  the  horrible  wreath  pierce  deeply  into  the  skull,  while  streams 
of  blood  flow  down  the  face  of  the  gracious  friend  of  sinners. 
Merciful  God,  what  a  scene  1  0  horror  unexampled,  and  with- 
out a  name ! 


306  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

My  readers,  how  can  we  reconcile  such  revolting  occurrences 
with  the  government  of  a  just  and  holy  God !  A  great  mystery 
must  He  at  the  bottom  of  them,  or  our  belief  in  a  supreme  moral 
government  of  the  world  loses  its  last  support.  •  And  is  not  this 
really  the  case?  Have  you  not  already  perceived  that  the 
references  of  that  scene  extend  back,  even  to  the  commence- 
ment of  the  history  of  mankind  ?  Did  it  not  seem  to  you  as  if, 
instead  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  you  saw  our  first  father  standing  be- 
fore you,  and  suffering  the  punishment  due  to  his  transgression 
in  Paradise  ?  If  so,  you  have  hit  upon  the  right  clew  to  explain 
that  otherwise  inexplicable  scene.  Believe  me,  there  is  a  closer 
connection  between  the  garden  of  Eden  and  the  court-yard  of 
the  Eoman  prsetorium  than  might  at  first  sight  be  supposed. 
Debts  incurred  in  Eden  are  there  liquidated,  and  sins  committed 
in  Paradise  are  there  atoned  for. 

Consider,  for  a  moment,  what  was  the  crime  by  the  commis- 
sion of  which,  the  first  of  our  race  plunged  himself  and  all  his 
descendants  into  destruction.  He  who  was  so  abundantly 
blessed  by  Ins  Maker,  lusted,  nevertheless,  after  the  forbidden 
fruit,  and  ate  of  it.  He  who  was  adorned,  by  the  kindness  of 
God,  with  innocence  and  beauty,  was  not  satisfied  with  that 
attire,  but  stretched  out  Ins  hand  to  grasp  a  crown  which  did  not 
belong  to  him.  He  refused  to  be  God's  servant  any  longer, 
but  would  be  himself  a  god.  No  longer  satisfied  with  the  rod 
of  dominion  which  had  been  granted  him,  as  Lord  of  the 
earth  and  every  earthly  creature ;  he  sought,  in  a  certain  sense, 
to  seize  the  scepter  of  the  Almighty  himself.  His  presumptuous 
desires  tended  to  the  being  independent  of  the  Lord  in  heaven, 
to  the  right  of  unconditionally  ruling  over  his  own  destiny,  and 
even  to  unlimited  freedom  from  every  law  which  he  did  not  im- 
pose upon  himself.  "Independence"  was  the  motto  which 
flamed  upon  his  banner.  He  wished  to  be  a  king — not  as  he 
ought  to  be,  under  God,  but  a  sovereign,  independent  as  God 
himself,  an  autocrat,  to  whose  egotistic  will  every  tiling  should 
bow. 

But  in  this  tendency  of  his  heart  lay  the  most  decided  falling 
away  from  God;  and  alas  for  us!  that,  in  its  germ,  it  was 
transferred  over  to,   and  inherited  .by  us,  like  a  subtle  poison. 


THE    SCOURGING.  307 

Who  will  venture  to  pronounce  himself  free  from  it?  'Who 
does  not  feel  those  sentiments  daily  blossoming  and  bearing 
fruit  in  him,  in  a  thousand  different  ways?  Do  not  we  all 
naturally  strive,  as  a  heathen  writer  has  expressed  it,  "  always 
after  that  which  is  forbidden?"  Is  it  not  self,  instead  of  God 
that  we  would  gladly  place  upon  the  throne;  and  does  not  its 
glorification  lie  incomparably  nearer  our  hearts  than  that  of  our 
Creator  ?  Does  not  the  arrogant  desire  accompany  us  at  every 
step,  to  mark  out,  as  little  deities,  our  own  path  of  life ;  and  do 
we  not  all  bring  with  us  into  the  world  the  rebellious  inclina- 
tion to  evade  the  laws  of  Jehovah,  and  instead  of  them,  arbi- 
trarily to  make  our  own  laws?  Assuredly  it  is  so!  We  all 
bear  about  in  us  the  likeness  of  our  fallen  progenitor ;  and  if  we 
refuse  to  hear  of  it,  we  only,  by  so  doing,  again  evince  our 
inherent  pride,  and  the  inward  darkness  into  which  we  are 
fallen. 

Tell  me,  now,  what,  according  to  your  opinion,  ought  to  have 
been  the  fate  of  Adam  for  lusting  after  the  forbidden  fruit,  and 
for  his  impious-  infringement  of  God's  prerogatives  ?  "  At  least," 
you  think,  "  the  scourge  instead  of  sensual  delight ;  a  crown  of 
thorns  instead  of  the  longed-for  diadem ;  and  a  robe  of  mockery 
instead  of  the  imperial  purple."  You  have  judged  rightly. 
Look  now  into  the  court-yard  of  Pilate's  palace,  and  convince 
yourselves  that  all  this,  of  which  you  deem  him  worthy,  really 
befell  him.  "  Whom ;"  you  ask,  astonished,  "  our  first  father, 
Adam?"  ISTo  other  than  he,  and  we,  his  seed,  in  him.  Yes, 
see  there  the  presumptuous  luster,  the  culpable  insurgent,  and 
aspirer  to  the  crown  in  Paradise ;  except  that  you  do  not  behold 
him  there  in  person,  but  as  represented  by  him,  who,  as  the 
second  Adam,  took  upon  himself  the  guilt  of  the  first. 

Such  is  the  secret  cause  of  the  bloody  events  we  have  been 
contemplating.  Away,  therefore,  with  all  false  sentimentality! 
with  the  partial  and  selfish  indignation  at  the  barbarous  crew! 
Apart  from  the  fact  of  our  being  innately  no  better  than  they 
— they  are  the  unconscious  intsruments  in  the  hands  of  retribu- 
tive justice.  What  befalls  Christ,  befalls  us  in  him,  who  is  our 
representative.  The  sufferings  he  endures,  fall  upon  our  corrupt 
nature.     In  him  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our  misdeeds; 


308  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

and  now  say,  if  it  I  e  too  much  ?  With  the  shudder  at  the  sight 
of  the  martyred  Lamb  of  God,  ought  to  be  joined  a  thorough 
condemnation  of  ourselves,  a  profound  adoration  of  the  unsearch- 
able wisdom  and  mercy  of  God,  and  a  joyful  exulting  at  the 
glorious  accomplishment  of  the  counsel  of  grace.  Our  hell  is 
extinguished  in  Jesus's  wounds ;  our  curse  is  consumed  in  Jesus's 
soul ;  our  guilt  is  purged  away  in  Jesus's  blood.  The  sword  of 
the  wrath  of  a  holy  God  was  necessarily  unsheathed  against  us ; 
and  if  the  Bible  is  not  a  falsehood,  and  the  threatenings  of  the 
law  a  mere  delusion,  and  God's  justice  an  idle  fancy,  and  his 
truth  a  mere  cobweb  of  the  brain — then,  nothing  is  more  evi- 
dent than  this,  that  of  all  the  millions  of  sinful  and  guilty  men 
who  ever  trod  the  earth,  not  a  single  individual  would  have 
escaped  the  sword,  if  the  Son  of  God  had  not  endured  the 
stroke,  and  taken  upon  himself  the  payment  of  our  debts.  Tins 
he  undertook.  Then  it  thundered  upon  him  from  the  clouds; 
the  raging  billows  of  a  sea  of  trouble  roared  against  liim ;  hell 
poured  upon  him  all  its  tortures  and  torments,  and  heaven  re- 
mained unmoved.  What  was  all  this  but  the  fate  which 
awaited  guilty  sinners?  But  since  Christ  endured  it,  the 
crosses,  which  were  erected  for  us,  have  been  thrown  down; 
the  stake  which  waited  for  us  has  been  removed;  the  cannon 
which  were  pointed  against  us  have  been  dismounted,  and,  from 
the  royal  residence  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  the  white  flag  of  peace 
is  held  out  to  us  poor  dwellers  upon  earth. 

The  case  has  been  well  stated  by  an  ancient  writer,  in  the 
following  words:  "Adam  was  a  king,  gloriously  arrayed,  and 
ordained  to  reign.  But  sin  cast  him  down  from  his  lofty  throne, 
•and  caused  him  the  loss  of  his  purple  robe,  his  diadem  and 
scepter.  But  after  his  eyes  were  opened  to  perceive  how  much 
he  had  lost,  and  when  his  looks  were  anxiously  directed  to  the 
earth  in  search  of  it,  he  saw  thorns  and  thistles  spring  up  on  the 
spot  where  the  crown  fell  from  his  head ;  the  scepter  changed, 
as  if  to  mock  the  fallen  monarch,  into  a  fragile  reed  ;  and  instead 
of  the  purple  robe,  his  deceived  hand  took  up  a  robe  of  mockery 
from  the  dust.  The  poor  disappointed  being  hung  down  his 
head  witn  grief,  when  a  voice  exclaimed,  'Look  up!'  He  did 
so,  and  lo!   what  an  astonishing  vision  presented  itself  to  his 


ECCE   HOMO  I  309 

eye!  Before  him  stood  a  dignified  and  mysterious  man,  who 
had  gathered  up  the  piercing  thorns  from  the  ground,  and 
wound  them  round  his  head  for  a  crown ;  he  had  wrapped  him- 
self in  the  robe  of  mockery,  and  taken  the  reed,  the  emblem  of 
weakness,  into  his  own  hand.  '  Who  art  thou,  wondrous 
being?'  inquired  the  progenitor  of  the  human  race,  astonished; 
and  received  the  heart-cheering  reply,  '  I  am  the  King  of  kings, 
who,  acting  as  thy  representative,  am  restoring  to  thee  the 
paradisaical  jewels  thou  hast  lost.'  Our  delighted  first  father 
then  bowed  himself  gratefully  and  reverentially  in  the  dust; 
and  after  being  clothed  with  the  skin  of  the  sacrificed  animal, 
fathomed  the  depths  of  the  words  of  Jehovah,  'Adam  is  become 
like  one  of  us.' " 

What  I  have  now  related  to  you  is  a  parable,  but  one  which 
rests  on  an  historical  basis.  For,  in  fact,  the  great  exchange 
which  Christ  made  with  us,  as  regards  the  reversion  and  the 
right,  has  again  placed  us  in  the  full  possession  of  paradisaic 
glory,  seeing  that  we  are  "  begotten  again  to  a  lively  hope,  and 
to  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away,  reserved  in  heaven  for  us,  who  are  kept  by  the  power  of 
God,  through  faith  unto  eternal  salvation." 


XXXVI. 

ECCE    HOMO! 

We  stand,  in  spirit,  before  Gabbatha.  The  judgment-seat  is 
still  empty.  The  scene,  as  we  are  aware,  has  been  transferred 
for  a  time  into  the  inner  court-yard.  We  know  the  horrible 
things  which  have  there  occurred.  The  evangelists  describe 
them  with  a  trembling  hand.  They  mention  the  scourging  only 
briefly.  We  think  we  see  them  covering  their  faces  with  their 
hands  at  this  terrific  scene ;  but  they  can  not  conceal  from  us  the 
tears  which  silently  steal  down  their  cheeks. 

Impatience  begins  to  seize  upon  the  multitude  outside ;   when, 


310  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

suddenly,  the  gate  of  the  praetorium  again  opens.  Pilate  ap- 
proaches, visibly  affected,  followed  by  One  who  is  surrounded 
by  a  troop  of  jeering  barbarians.  Oh,  what  an  appearance  does 
he  present!  You  shudder,  and  cover  your  faces.  Do  so,  and 
permit  me,  meanwhile,  to  relate  a  brief  narrative  to  you. 

Heaven's  pearly  gates  were  once  tin-own  open,  and  a  Holy 
One  descended  into  the  world — such  a  one  as  the  sons  of  men 
had  never  seen  since  the  fall.  He  was  glorious  beyond  com- 
pare, and  came  to  verify  the  dream  of  Jacob's  ladder,  which 
connected  earth  with  heaven.  Love  was  his  banner,  compassion 
the  beating  of  his  heart.  He  sojourned  three  years  among 
mortals,  shedding  light  on  those  who  were  stumbling  in  dark- 
ness, fining  the  cottages  of  the  wretched  with  temporal  and 
spiritual  blessings,  inviting  the  weary  and  heavy  laden  to  come 
to  him,  in  order  to  give  them  rest,  and  irradiating  the  darkness 
of  the  vale  of  death  with  promises  upon  promises,  as  with  so 
many  golden  lights  from  heaven.  "I  am  not  come,"  said  he, 
"to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  my  life  a 
ransom  for  many."  He  testified  that  he  came  to  redeem  his 
people  from  their  sins;  that  he  would  not  leave  them  comfort- 
less, but  would  bring  them  to  the  Father,  and  elevate  them  to 
be  fellow-heirs  with  him  in  his  glory.  And  how  did  he  fulfill  his 
promises,  whenever  any  ventured  to  take  heart  and  filially  con- 
fide in  him !  0  what  blessings  must  such  a  guest  have  brought 
with  him  to  a  world  lying  under  the  curse !  Even  the  angels 
around  the  throne  might  have  envied  the  pilgrims  in  this  vale 
of  death  by  reason  of  this  visit.  And  as  regards  the  children  of 
men — "Doubtless,"  you  say,  "thejr  received  him  with  exulta- 
tion, melted  into  tears  of  rapture,  conducted  him  in  triumph, 
and  knew  not  what  they  should  do  to  manifest  their  gratitude  to 
their  heavenly  friend  and  deliverer." 

Truly,  one  might  have  supposed  that  such  would  have  been 
the  case.  "What,  and  was  it  not  so?"  My  friends,  lift  up 
your  eyes,  and  look  toward  G-abbatha.  "Gracious  heaven!" 
you  exclaim,  "Who  is  yonder  sufferer?"  0,  my  friends,  whom 
do  you  take  him  to  be  ?  Look  him  narrowly  in  the  face,  and 
say  if  wickedness  could  have  vented  itself  worse  than  it  has 
done  on  this  person  ?    Alas !  they  have  made  of  him  a  carnival 


ECCE   HOilOl  311 

king ;  and  as  if  he  were  unworthy  of  being  dealt  with  seriously, 
they  have  impressed  upon  him  the  stamp  of  derision.  Look  at 
the  mock  robe  about  his  shoulders,  the  theatrical  scepter  in  his 
hands,  and  on  his  head,  which  is  covered  with  wounds  and 
blood,  the  dreadful  crown  of  thorns.  But  who  is  this  man,  thus 
horribly  disfigured?  I  think  you  will  no  longer  seriously  in- 
quire. The  lamb-like  patience,  and  the  superhuman  resignation 
with  which  he  stands  before  you,  point  him  out  sufficiently 
clearly.  No  less  does  the  majesty  betray  him,  which,  in  spite 
of  all  the  abasement  he  experiences,  still  shows  itself  in  his  whole 
deportment,  as  well  as  the  divinely  forgiving  love  which  even 
now  beams  from  his  eye.  Who  would  be  found  acting  thus  in 
a  similar  situation  ?  Yes,  it  is  the  Holy  One  from  on  high,  who 
stands  before  you  the  picture  of  agony.  "Behold  the  man!" 
exclaims  the  heathen  judge,  deeply  affected,  and  faintly  im- 
pressed with  an  idea  of  some  superior  being.  Ah,  had  Pilate 
clearly  known,  what  he  only  obscurely  felt,  he  would  at  least 
have  said,  "  You  have  here  before  you  the  moral  pattern  of  our 
race,  the  flower  of  humanity,  and  holiness  personified." 

"Behold  the  man!"  The  hope  is  once  more  excited  in  the 
governor,  that  he  would  still  be  able  to  accomplish  the  liberation 
of  Jesus.  "Now,"  he  thinks,  "the  blood-thirstiness  of  the 
raging  multitude  will  certainly  be  satisfied.  In  the  presence  of 
One  so  full  of  dignity  and  meekness,  the  fury  of  the  most  cruel 
must  subside,  and  right  feeling  return,  even  to  the  most  hard- 
ened." Let  us  see  what  occurs.  The  people  are  about  to  reply 
to  the  governor's  appeal — the  people,  that  thousand-headed  giant, 
of  whom  so  much  is  said  in  commendation,  and  whose  appear- 
ance is  so-  imposing;  whose  united  voice  is  supposed  to  be 
always  correct,  and  even  proverbially  esteemed  equal  to  the 
voice  of  God.  But  what  is  the  echo  which  resounds  from  the 
breast  of  the  powerful  monster;  in  reply  to  the  governor's  ex- 
clamation, "Behold  the  manl'  "Crucify  him!  Crucify  him!" 
rends  the  air,  as  if  proceeding  from  a  single  tongue. 

"  But  are  these  impious  men  aware  of  what  they  are  doing  ?" 
Certainly  not,  in  all  its  extent.  You  must  not,  however,  sup- 
pose that  they  are  acting  merely  as  in  a  dream.  0  no  !  In  the 
person  of  Christ,  they  would  gladly  dash  to  pieces  the  mirror 


312  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

which  mutely  renders  them  conscious  of  their  own  deformity. 
In  the  Nazarene,  they  would  gladly  extinguish  the  light  of  the 
world,  which  they  hate,  because  they  feel  more  at  ease  in  the 
darkness  of  deception,  than  in  the  broad  daylight  of  unvarnished 
truth.  They  would  gladly  get  rid  of  the  disagreeable  monitor 
who  reminded  them  of  the  awfulness  of  eternity;  for  they  are 
vexed  at  being  disturbed  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  their  earthly 
husks.  They  neither  desire  an  external  conscience,  nor  the  exhib- 
ition of  a  model  of  virtue,  nor  an  awakener  from  their  deadly 
sleep,  nor,  generally  speaking,  any  moral  authority  over  them. 
On  all  these  accounts,  they  are  exasperated  against  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel,  and  have  nothing  left  for  him  but  the  implacable 
cry  of  "  Crucify  him !     Crucify  him 1" 

Thus  they  are  judged.  In  the  manifestation  of  him  who 
was  "fairer  than  the  children  of  men,"  our  fallen  nature  has 
taken  occasion  to  make  it  evident  that  its  corruption  is  radical, 
its  disease  desperate,  and  its  inmost  tendency  nothing  else  than 
enmity  against  the  Most  High  God.  The  many  thousand 
additional  proofs  of  this  which  history  furnishes,  we  may  dis- 
pense with,  after  our  race,  in  the  murder  of  the  Lord  from 
heaven,  has  pronounced  sentence  upon  itself,  and  filled  up  the 
measure  of  its  guilt.  The  mute  sufferer  in  the  purple  robe  and 
crown  of  throns,  sits  in  judgment  upon  it,  and  silently  testifies 
that  without  mediation  and  an  atonement,  the  seed  of  Adam, 
in  its  whole  extent,  is  exposed  to  the  curse. 

That  which  manifests  itself  at  Grabbatha,  is  only  the  mature 
fruit  of  a  seed,  which  grows,  openly  or  secretly,  in  us  all.  Do 
not  call  this  assertion  unjust.  As  long  as  we  have  not  expe- 
rienced the  second  birth  by  water  and  the  Spirit,  we  do  not 
act,  with  regard  to  Jesus,  in  a  manner  essentially  different  from 
the  wretched  men  at  G-abbatha.  Like  them,  we  are  offended 
at  the  holiness  of  Jesus.  Like  them,  we  spurn  them  from  us, 
when  he  is  desirous  of  rending  the  web  of  deceit  we  have  spun 
around  us.  Like  them,  we  spit  upon  him  in.  spirit  with  our 
scorn,  when  he  gives  us  to  understand  that  we  ought  to  bow 
the  knee  of  homage  to  him  as  our  ruler.  Tell  me,  does  not 
Christ  still  wear,  in  a  hundred  different  forms,  the  purple  robe 
and  crown  of  thorns  in  the  world  ?    Is  he  not  exposed  to  public 


ecce  noiio!  313 

ridicule,  and  treated  as  a  liar  and  an  enthusiast,  because  he 
bears  witness  to  his  superhuman  dignity?  Is  not  his  name, 
even  to  this  day,  proscribed  by  thousands,  like  scarcely  any 
other  ?  Does  not  an  ironical  smile  dart  across  the  lips  of  many, 
when  it  is  mentioned  with  reverence  and  fervor?  Is  it  not 
regarded,  in  many  circles}  as  much  more  pardonable  to  be 
enthusiastic  for  Yoltaire,  than  that  it  should  occur  to  us  to  be 
serious  in  our  love  to  Jesus?  As  soon  as  we  begin  to  be  so, 
are  we  not  inundated  with  disgrace  and  reproach,  and  in  us, 
the  Lord  himself?  Truly,  the  sins  which  were  committed  on 
the  bleeding  form  of  Jesus,  are  so  little  to  be  regarded  as 
the  sins  and  impious  acts  of  a  few,  that  the  accumulated  guilt 
of  the  whole  human  race  is  only  thereby  made  apparent. 
The  horrible  and  cruel  scene  at  Gabbatha  is  not  yet  at  an  end. 
It  is  daily  renewed,  although  in  a  somewhat  less  striking 
manner.  The  words,  "Behold  the  Man!"  point  not  only  to 
what  is  past,  they  have  also  a  condemning  reference  to  the 
present.  Alas,  the  world  became  a  Gabbatha!  The  thorn- 
crowned  martyred  form  exhibited  there  mutely  condemns  us 
all  without  distinction. 

But  the  presence  of  the  divine  sufferer  acts  not  merely 
judicially  and  condemnatory.  It  also  exercises  an  influence 
commanding  homage  and  reverence.  However  deeply  abased 
the  Saviour  may  appear,  he  is  still  a  king.  Even  in  his  blood- 
stained attire,  he  accomplishes  a  truly  regal  work,  and  in  so 
doing,  ascends  a  throne  on.  which  no  eye  had  previously  seen 
him.  It  is  not  the  throne  of  government  over  all  created  things  ; 
for  to  this  the  Father  had  long  before  elevated  him.  Do  not 
mistake,  while  contemplating  the  man  thus  covered  with 
disgrace.  If  he  sways  even  the  feeble  reed  in  his  hand,  legions 
of  angels  would  hasten  down  for  his  defense,  and  lay  his  foes 
beneath  his  feet.  Just  as  little  is  the  throne  he  here  ascends 
that  of  an  avenger  and  a  judge.  This  also  he  had  previously 
occupied.  Let  no  one  deceive  himself;  beneath  his  robe  of 
mockery,  he  still  conceals  the  thunder  and  the  lightning;  and 
consuming  fire,  if  he  permitted  it,  would  jssue  from  his  thorny 
crown,  as  from  Jotham's  bush  of  old,  and  devour  his  adversaries. 

M  But  if  he  possessed  the  power  to  do  this,  why  did  he  not 

14 


314  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

make  use  of  it?"  I  answer,  because  beneath  the  robe  of 
mockery  he  wears  another  and  a  different  one,  the  purple  of  a 
compassionating  love,  which  longs  for  the  salvation  of  the  lost. 
The  new  throne,  which  he  ascends  on  Grabbatha,  is  that  of  a  King 
of  poor  sinners  and  ofa"  Prince  of  Peace."  It  i§  the  throne  of 
grace,  from  whence  forgiveness  flows  down,  instead  of  retribu- 
tion, and  promise  proceeds  instead  of  command.  To  this  throne 
no  other  way  is  open  to  him,  but  that  on  which  we  have  seen 
him  walk.  Before  the  curse  could  give  way  to  blessing,  the 
sword  of  justice  to  the  olive  branch  of  peace,  the  obligations  of 
sinners  must  be  fulfilled,  their  debts  liquidated,  and  thus  divine 
justice  satisfied.  This  is  the  great  work  in  which  we  see  the 
Redeemer  now  engaged.  Through  suffering,  he  acquires  fresh 
power;  immersed  in  ignominy,  he  clothes  himself  with  new 
glory. 

"  Behold  the  man !"  Yes,  fix  your  eyes  upon  him,  and  strike 
your  hands  together  with  astonishment  at  the  sight.  In  the 
mock  robe  in  which  he  stands  before  you,  he  gains  victories 
and  triumphs  which  he  never  could  have  won  in  the  sumptuous 
robe  of  Ins  divine  majesty.  In  it,  he  overcomes  eternal  justice, 
while  compelling  it  to  change  its  sentence  of  death  upon  the 
sinner  into' a  sentence  of  grace.  In  it,  he  overcomes  the  irre- 
vocable law,  by  rendering  it  possible  for  it  to  withdraw  the 
curse  pronounced  upon  us,  without  infringing  its  authority  and 
dignity.  He  overcomes  sin,  from  which  he  rends  its  destructive 
power ;  Satan,  whom  he  deprives  of  his  last  claim  to  us  in  the 
way  of  right;  and  death,  from  which  he  takes  away  the  sting, 
and  the  armor  of  a  king  of  terrors.  To  the  man,  so  disfigured 
as  scarcely  to  be  recognized,  belongs,  henceforth,  the  earth,  as 
the  price  of  payment  for  his  blood ;  and  no  destroying  power, 
which,  as  the  consequence  of  sin,  had,  by  divine  permission, 
entered  into  the  world,  has  any  more  a  legal  claim  upon  it 
From  its  pillars  he  removes  the  insignia  and  armorial  bearings 
of  all  usurping  authority,  and  replaces  them  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  the  mark  of  his  peaceful  sway.  And  no  one  dare  to 
interfere  and  say  to  him,  What  dost  thou  ?  He  is  complete  and 
unassailable  in  his  own  right.  The  world  is  his,  that  he  may  let 
his  love  rule  over  it,  and  not  his  wrath;  and  if  he  henceforth 


ECC.E    HOMO  !  315 

treats  penitent  sinners  as  if  they  were  replete  with  holiness  and 
virtue,  who  will  be  bold  enough  to  contest  his  right  to  do  so  ? 

"Behold  the  man!"  Yes,  it  is  a  strange  ornament  that  decks 
his  head ;  but  know,  that  in  this  wreath  he  possesses  and  uses 
a  power  of  which  he  could  not  boast  while  only  adorned  with 
the  crown  of  Deity,  which  he  inherited  from  all  eternity.  In 
the  latter,  he  could  only  say  to  the  dying  thief,  "Be  thou 
accursed  !"  In  the  former,  he  is  able  to  say  to  him,  "  This  day 
Shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise!"  In  the  heavenly  crown, 
he  could  say  nothing  else  to  a  Magdalene,  a  publican,  or  a 
paralytic,  than  "Depart  from  me!"  and  give  them  over  to 
perdition.  But  in  his  crown  of  thorns,  it  is  in  his  power  to  say 
to  these  guilty  souls,  "  G-o  in  peace,  your  sins  are  forgiven  you !" 
In  the  former  he  certainly  reigned,  but  over  a  hopelessly  ruined 
race,  devoted  to  destruction;  in  the  diadem  of  thorns,  he  rules 
over  a  world  replete  with  great  and  glorious  anticipations. 

"Behold  the  man!"  A  feeble  reed  is  his  rod  of  office;  but 
with  the  scepter  of  Omnipotence,  which  he  wielded  from  the 
beginning,  he  did  not  perform  the  wonders  which  he  works  with 
"this  mark  of  abasement  and  weakness.  True,  the  gates  of  hell 
opened  for  transgressors  at  a  wave  of  the  former ;  but  when  he 
sways  the  latter,  the  doors  of  the  paradise  they  have  forfeited 
open  for  them  at  his  pleasure.  With  the  former,  he  was  Lord 
over  mankind  only  as  over  a  lost  race  destined  for  the  slaughter 
with  the  latter,  he  now  tends  a  flock  of  them  called  to  eternal 
salvation.  The  scepter  of  his  majesty  did  not  menace  the  king- 
dom of  darkness  in  its  claim  on  fallen  man,  since*"  retributive 
justice,  which  is  the  basis  of  God's  throne,  bounded  his  power 
with  impassable  limits.  With  the  scepter  of  his  lowliness,  on 
the  contrary,  he  overturns  the  seat  of  the  prince  of  darkness, 
taking  away  from  him  territory  and  population,  and  that  so 
justly,  that  hell  itself  dares  not  object  to,  nor  call  it  in  question. 

Can  you  mistake  the  conqueror  of  the  world  in  Him  whom 
you  sec  before  you?  Does  not  the  "stronger"  stand  before 
you,  who  takes  away  the  spoils  and  armor  of  the  "strong 
man,"  and  makes  an  end  of  all  opposing  authority?  But  know, 
that  in  the  same  attire  in  which  he  there  yields  himself  up  to  the 
world,  as  to  any  legal  claim,  he  continues  to  overcome  it.     It  is 


316  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

not  in  the  form  of  "  the  Master  in  Israel,"  nor  in  that  of  the 
glorious  Son  of  the  Eternal  Father,  but  in  the  form  of  the  divine 
sufferer,  that  he  inclines  the  hearts  of  those  toward  him  whom 
he  has  purchased  with  his  blood.  He  meets  his  children 
usually  in  his  wreath  of  thorns,  and  gathers,  even  to  this  day, 
the  recompense  of  his  sufferings  in  his  robe  of  mockery,  and  not 
in  the  purple  of  his  Eternal  Majesty.  The  sons  of  the  desert 
continue  estranged  from  Mm  as  long  as  he  meets  them  only  in 
the  garb  of  a  teacher,  or  with  the  insignia  of  his  superhuman 
royalty.  But  no  sooner  does  he  display  before  them  his  suffer- 
ing form,  than  they  begin  to  be  astonished,  and  feel  attracted,  as 
by  a  wondrous  and  magnetic  power;  and  when  they  hear,  as 
from  his  bleeding  lips,  that  all  he  endured  was  for  their  sakes,  it 
is  his  purple  robe  they  first  lay  hold  of,  liis  crown  of  thorns  to 
which  they  first  pay  homage,  and  his  reed-scepter  to  which,  in 
joyful  obedience,  they  bow  their  necks,  as  to  that  of  their  right- 
ful Lord.  Yes,  the  sight  of  the  suffering  Saviour  is  still  the 
mighty  power  which  silently  changes  lions  into  lambs,  breaks 
and  melts  the  stony  heart,  and  prepares  the  way  for  his  most 
glorious  achievements. 

"Behold  the  man!"  Yes,  keep  your  eyes  fixed  upon  him. 
Even  as  he  is  the  Judge  and  Conqueror,  so  he  is  also  the  Bene- 
factor of  the  world.  We  know  that  he  no  longer  stands  on 
Gabbatha.  He  has  long  ago  ascended  the  throne  of  glory,  in  a 
different  robe  and  a  different  diadem  to  that  in  which  we  there 
beheld  him.  But  he  left  us  his  thorn-crowned  image  in  the 
Gospel ;  an*d  Oh,  the  wonders  it  has  wrought  in  the  world,  and 
continues  to  perform,  whenever  the  Holy  Spirit  illumines  it! 
Even  as  in  that  degraded  suffering  form,  the  Lord  from  heaven 
saved  the  world,  so  he  still  shows  himself  in  it  as  the  world's 
benefactor.  Thus  arrayed,  he  exhibits  himself  in  the  lonely  cell 
of  the  weeping  and  contrite  penitent,  and  how  is  the  heart  of 
such  a  one  relieved  at  the  sound  of  "  Ecce  Homo  1"  for  "  He 
bare  our  iniquities."  In  this  form  he  shows  himself  to  those 
who  are  sorely  tempted ;  and  the  sight  of  him  who  has  trodden 
Satan  under  his  feet,  renders  their  victory  secure.  He  appears 
in  this  form  to  those  who  are  grievously  afflicted,  and  scarcely 
do  they  behold  him  than  they  breathe  more  freely,  and  exultingly 


ECCE   HOMO!  317 

exclaim,  "  Through  the  cross  to  the  crown !"  In  this  form  he 
approaches  his  children,  when  rejected  and  despised  by  the 
world ;  and  when  they  see  him,  though  only  through  the  lattice, 
they  feel  already  fresh  courage,  and  boldly  say,  u  We  desire  no 
other  array  from  you  who  are  his  adversaries,  than  that  in  which 
you  once  clothed  our  Glorious  Head."  In  this  form  he  silently 
draws  near  to  those  who  feel  grieved  at  the  base  ingratitude  and 
coldness  of  the  world;  but  in  his  presence,  how  quickly  does 
their  sorrow  turn  to  deep  confusion  at  their  desire  for  human 
praise  and  empty  honor !  In  this  form  he  restores  those  to  his 
flock,  who  had  again  let  themselves  be  seduced  from  him  by  the 
allurements  of  the  world.  A  compassionate  and  warning  look 
from  his  eye,  from  under  the  crown  of  thorns,  causes  them  again 
to  melt  in  contrition  at  his  feet.  In  this  form  he  appears  to  his 
children  when  the  shades  of  death  begin  to  fall  around  them, 
and  their  feet  already  tread  the  dark  valley;  and  when  their 
half-closed  eyes  behold  him,  they  feel  that  heavenly  peace  flows 
down  to  them  from  his  crown  of  thorns,  and  that,  from  the  reed 
in  his  hand,  the  king  of  terrors,  overcome,  shrinks  back  with  all 
his  horrors,  and  as  if  the  purple  robe  of  their  divine  friend 
extended  itself  like  a  peaceful  canopy  over  them.  Cheered  by 
his  presence,  they  exclaim  with  good  old  Simeon,  "Lord,  now 
lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
thy  salvation !" 

0  may  he  thus  appear  to  us,  likewise,  when  our  day  declines, 
and  the  darkness  of  night  surrounds  us !  May  he  then  unvail 
his  suffering  form  before  us,  when  the  gloomy  path  presents 
itself  to  our  view,  which  we  must  tread  alone!  When  our  pulse 
ceases  to  beat,  amid  the  unavailing  tears  of  those  who  are  dear 
to  us,  and  the  world  passes  away  from  us  forever;  when  no 
human  art  any  longer  avails,  and  even  the  consolation  of  human 
affection  no  longer  reaches  the  heart,  0  may  he  then  accompany 
us  in  our  solitary  path,  in  his  purple  robe  and  crown  of  thorns, 
and  all  that  is  dark  around  us  will  be  changed  into  heavenly 
light  and  glory !  For  it  is  in  this  form  above  every  other,  that 
the  great  truth  is  expressed,  that  the  sentence  of  death  and  the 
curse  are  removed  from  our  heads  to  his,  in  order  that  free 
access  to  the  throne  of  grace  may  be  granted  us,  when  clothed 


318  THE   HOLT   PLACE. 

in  the  robe  of  his  righteousness.  0  how  much  sooner  does  a 
poor  sinner  take  heart  to  lay  hold  of  the  hem  of  his  purple  robe, 
than  of  that  of  his  garment  of  light;  while  from  the  thorny 
wreath  around  his  brow,  the  mysterious  benediction  of  Moses  is 
pronounced  upon  us :  "  The  good-will  of  him  that  dwelt  in  the 
bush  come  upon  the  head  of  Joseph,  and  upon  the  top  of  the 
head  of  him  that  was  separated  from  his  brethren." 

Let,  then,  the  sound  of  "Ecce  Homo!"  ever  vibrate  in  our 
hearts,  and  nothing  in  the  world  ever  cause  his  suffering  form 
to  fade  from  our  mental  view.  This  ought  never  to  be  the  case, 
if  we*  desire  that  the  peace  of  Q-od,  courage  in  striving  against 
sin  and  the  world,  and  comfort  in  life  and  death,  should  abide 
within  us.  The  wisdom  of  the  just  consists,  as  Paul  expresses 
it,  in  knowing  nothing  among  men  save  Christ,  and  him  cruci- 
fied. Dying  daily  to  ourselves  and  the  world,  in  fellowship  with 
the  dying  Redeemer,  in  order  daily  to  rise  with  him  to  the  new 
life  in  God,  is  our  vocation.  Let  us  be  satisfied  with  it,  remem- 
bering that  "  we  have  here  no  abiding  city."  How  long  may  it 
be  before  we  hear  the  sound  of  another  "  Ecce  Homo !"  But 
if  we  then  lift  up  our  eyes,  a  different  form  will  present  itself  to 
our  view  than  that  which  we  saw  on  Gabbatha.  The  King  of 
Glory  will  then  have  exchanged  the  robe  of  mockery  for  the 
starry  mantle  of  Divine  Majesty,  the  wreath  of  thorns  for  a 
crown  of  glory,  and  the  reed  for  the  scepter  of  universal 
dominion.  He  inclines  the  latter  to  us  graciously  as  the  symbol 
of  his  especial  favor,  saying,  "  Come,  and  inherit  the  kingdom 
prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world!"  And 
while  from  the  interior  of  the  heavenly  city  of  God  the  never- 
ending  hallelujahs  of  the  blessed  above  greet  our  ears,  our  full 
hearts  respond  to  the  ecstatic  acclamation,  "Worthy  is  the 
Lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom, 
and  strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing." 


XXXVII. 
THE    CLOSE    OF    THE    PROCEEDINGS. 

The  judicial  procedure  against  the  Lord  of  Glory  hastens  to  its 
c'ose.  Events  crowd  upon,  and  even  overthrow  each  other. 
The  great  and  decisive  moment  is  at  hand,  and  the  occurrences 
which  take  place,  claim  our  sympathy  in  an  increasing  degree. 

"  Crucify  him !"  was  the  people's  answer  to  the  pathetic 
appeal  of  the  more  than  half-vanquished  governor,  that  the  life 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  might  be  spared.  This  response  completely 
dispossessed  Pilate  of  his  last  and  imaginary  safe  position.  Be- 
hold him,  now  a  mere  object  of  compassion  and  pity,  helpless, 
and  wholly  at  a  loss,  inwardly  torn  and  tortured  by  the  scourge 
of  his  better-self;  without  faith,  though  not  free  from  supersti- 
tion, and  therefore  the  football  of  human  and  infernal  powers, 
which  exert  their  influence  over  him.  He  again  affirms  the 
innocence  of  the  accused,  but  instead  of  terminating  the  proceed- 
ings by  the  liberation  of  Jesus,  as  he  ought  to  have  done,  he 
demeans  himself  so  far  as  to  give  the  cowardly  advice  to  the 
Jews  to  take  him  and  crucify  him  without  his  authority  :  really, 
our  compassion  for  the  weak-minded  and  unprincipled  man 
begins  greatly  to  diminish,  and  with  respect  to  him,  we  are 
tempted  to  soften  our  reprobation  of  the  people  thus  misled  and 
strengthened  in  their  delusion  by  Pilate's  weakness,  and  to 
transfer  it  entirely  to  him.  Can  we  feel  surprised  that  the 
people  become  more  bold,  the  more  they  see  the  judge  vacillate  and 
give  way  ?  "  We  have  a  law,"  they  cry  out  very  determinedly, 
"  and  by  our  law  he  ought  to  die,  because  he  made  himself  the 
Son  of  God."  The  people  are  not  satisfied  with  simply  putting 
Jesus  to  death,  but  in  order  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  revolt, 
they  desire  that  Jesus  should  be  executed  under  all  the  forms  of 
p  ublic  justice. 

The  new  accusation  here  brought  by  the  Jews  against  Jesus, 
that  he  made  himself  the  Son  of  God,  is  very   deserving  of 


320  THE   HOLY    PLACE. 

notice.  By  this,  they  in  fact  assert  that  Jesus,  in  the  proceed- 
ings against  him,  had  assumed  this  high  and  honorable  title. 
That  they  therefore  consider  him  guilty  of  a  capital  crime,  may 
serve  us  as  a  criterion  of  the  extent  and  sublimity  which  they 
attached  to  that  appropriation.  How  could  it  have  occurred  to 
them  to  regard  the  latter  as  any  thing  impious,  had  they  taken  it 
for  granted,  that  Jesus  had  declared  himself  to  be  a  Son  of  God 
in  no  higher  sense  than  that  in  which  all  men,  and  especially  the 
pious  and  such  as  keep  the  law,  might  so  call  themselves  ?  But 
it  was  quite  clear  to  them,  that  by  the  title  of  Son  of  God,  Jesus 
intended  to  place  himself  high  above  every  creature,  and  even 
on  an  equality  with  the  all-sufficient  God  liimself.  And  if  our 
Lord  had  intended  less  than  this,  it  was  his  sacred  duty,  on  this 
occasion,  to  reject  the  assertion  of  his  accusers  as  false,  or  to 
rectify  it  as  a  great  mistake.  However,  he  neither  does  the  one 
nor  the  other,  but  observes  silence,  and  by  it,  openly  confirms 
the  accusation  brought  against  him  as  well-founded. 

"  We  have  a  law,"  cried  the  people ;  and  such  they  had,  indeed 
— a  positive  law,  revealed  from  heaven,  and  contained  in  the 
written  word  of  God.  A  law,  clearer  than  the  sun,  deeper  than 
the  sea,  and  as  the  pure  reflection  of  the  holiness  of  God,  and 
the  perfect  expression  of  his  unchangeable  will,  valid  for  the 
whole  world — for  time  and  for  eternity;  and  know,  that  until 
God  shall  become  less  holy  than  he  is,  and  not  till  then,  will  the 
requirements  of  that  law  be  lessened  and  mitigated.  When  the 
justice  of  God  once  begins  to  decline,  and  his  truth  to  vacillate, 
then,  and  not  till  then,  will  the  trangressing  his  law  be  of  less 
moment,  and  the  curse  of  the  law  be  less  feared.  But  as  long 
as  there  is  in  God  no  shadow  of  a  change,  his  law  retains  its 
majesty  and  implacable  severity;  and  as  long  as  justice  and 
judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne,  he  that  continueth  not 
in  all  things  that  are  written  in  the  book  of  the  law,  is  rejected 
of  God  and  under  the  curse.  Hence  the  law  of  which  we  speak, 
can  not  be  a  favored  or  welcome  guest  upon  earth.  As  long 
as  we  live  without  union  to  Christ,  we  should  rejoice  if  the  law 
did  not  exist.  For  what  does  it  effect,  but  show  us  in  a  clear 
light,  our  estrangement  from  God,  and  by  means  of  its 
threatemngs,   cause   a    hell    in   our  consciences?      How  many 


TILE   CLOSE    OP   THE   PROCEEDINGS.  321 

thousands  lias  it  robbed  of  their  peace  and  all  the  enjoyment  of 
life,  and  imprisoned  them,  for  the  rest  of  their  days,  in  the 
gloomy  dungeons  of  terror  and  despondency !  Where  is  the 
wonder,  then,  if  they  execrate  the  law,  and  are  always  en- 
deavoring to  unnerve  and  make  it  void.  For  if  the  law  was 
not  in  the  world,  sin  would  be  no  longer  sin,  and  men  would 
imagine  they  could  reach  heaven  as  they  listed.  But  to  wish 
that  there  were  no  law,  would  be  to  desire  that  God  should 
cease  to  exist.  For  if  there  is  a  God  in  heaven,  he  has  a  right 
over  his  creatures,  and  the  will  of  God,  as  the  personal  abstract 
of  every  virtue,  can  not  be  less  holy  than  the  law  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, which  requires  a  perfection,  "  even  as  the  Father  in 
heaven  is  perfect." 

The  Jews  of  that  day  had  still  a  consciousness  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  divine  law.  The  world  in  the  present  day  has  long 
ago  lost  this  consciousness,  and  has  swept  away  the  positive 
command,  by  a  reckless,  arbitrary,  self-chosen,  and  shallow 
morality.  Tins  substitute,  which  capitulates  to  our  corrupt 
nature,  does  not  hurl  a  curse,  but  unavoidably  brings  one  after 
it.  It  is  rebellion  against  the  law  to  endeavor  to  weaken  and 
neutralize  it ;  and,  believe  me,  in  due  time  it  will  avenge  itself 
on  all  such,  and  dreadfully  viadicate  its  honor. 

"  We  have  a  law,  and  by  our  law  he  ought  to  die,  because 
he  made  himself  the  Son  of  God."  Yery  true,  presupposing 
that  he  had  spoken  falsely  in  the  great  things  he  asserted  of 
himself.  The  charge  of  a  treasonable  blasphemy  would  then 
have  lain  upon  him.  Such,  however,  was  not  the  case,  for  he 
was  really  what  he  gave  himself  out  to  be.  But  let  us  remem- 
ber, that  he  was  now  appearing  in  our  stead ;  and  in  this  position 
the  people's  sentence  proves  correct.  You  know,  however,  that 
he  died,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  and  thus  he  became  the  end  of 
the  law  to  all  them  that  believe.  We  died  with  him,  without 
personally  feeling  the  suffering  of  death.  In  him  we  emptied 
the  bitter  cup,  which  was  destined  for  us  on  account  of  our  sins. 
Henceforward  the  law  no  longer  stands  in  our  way,  but  only 
ministers  to  us  in  offices  of  love.  Henceforth  it  may  only  say 
to  us,  "Behold  the  righteousness  reflected  in  my  demands,  and 
know  that  it  is  now  yours  in  Christ  Jesus.     As  personally  holy 

14* 


322  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

as  I  require  men  to  be,  you  shall  eventually  be  presented  before 
God."  The  law  is  also  appointed  to  us,  who  delight  in  the  law 
of  God  after  the  inward  man,  to  live  so  as  entirely  to  please  him, 
who  hath  bought  us  with  his  blood;  to  unfold  to  us,  in  every 
case,  what  is  pleasing  to  the  Lord,  and  wherewith  we  may  in- 
fallibly serve  him;  and  in  addition  to  this,  to  show  us  its 
threatenings  and  its  curses,  as  a  conquered  general  shows  to  his 
victors,  the  ordnance,  which,  during  the  conflict,  were  dis- 
mounted by  their  superior  fire.  It  is  to  such  performances  that 
the  law  is  now  enjoined.  It  is  our  friend,  though  occasionally 
disguised  under  a  gloomy  mask,  and  makes  again  the  sound  of 
its  lifted  rod  to  be  heard  by  us.  This  it  does,  only  to  drive  us 
back  to  the  wounds  of  Jesus,  or  still  deeper  into  them.  But 
having  again  reached  this  city  of  refuge,  it  greets  us  in  its  true 
and  wholly  reconciled  form.  It  has  forever  forsaken  its  hostile 
and  menacing  position  with  regard  to  us.  "  Christ  is  the  end 
of  the  law ;"  and  whoever  is  conscious  of  being  a  sinner  in  the 
sight  of  God,  let  him  read  these  words  to  his  complete  satisfac- 
tion. In  them  lies  the  spring  of  my  peace,  as  well  as  the  dying 
song,  with  which  I  hope,  at  length,  gently  and  blissfully  to  fall 


"He  made  himself  the  Son  of* God,"  cried  the  assembled 
crowd.  "  When  ^ilate  heard  that  saying,"  Ave  are  informed,  "he 
was  the  more  afraid."  We  well  understand  the  reason.  The 
words  were  in  unison  with  his  deepest  presentiment.  He  had 
long  felt,  while  the  Holy  One  was  before  him,  as  if  trans- 
ported into  a  supernatural  region.  The  remembrance  of  his 
childish  dreams  of  heavenly  beings,  who  appeared  as  dispensing 
benefits  to  mankind,  of  sons  of  God,  who  favored  the  earth 
with  their  visits,  awoke  again  in  Ins  soul,  accompanied  by  more 
serious  and  gloomy  thoughts ;  and  although  it  did  not  occur  to 
him  to  conceive  of  such  a  messenger  from  Olympus  in  the  person 
of  the  ISTazarene,  yet  the  reality  of  a  superior  world  impressed 
itself  so  strongly  upon  him,  that,  with  his  enlightened  understand- 
ing, he  felt  himself  greatly  perplexed.  Jesus  had  therefore  de- 
clared himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God.  Tins  seemed  to  the  governor 
to  be  something  highly  remarkable  and  significant.  All  that  he 
had  seen  of  the  man  with  his  own  eyes  seemed  only  to  confirm 


THE   CLOSE    OF   THE   PROCEEDINGS.  323 

- 

this  assertion  respecting  him.  M  The  Son  of  God !"  Pilate, 
had  he  been  willing  to  have  given  vent  to  the  feeling,  which  in 
single  moments  overpowered  him,  would  have  almost  called  him 
so ;  and  what  was  there  in  the  wondrous  man  to  render  it  in- 
credible that  he  should  be  of  other  descent  and  superior  in  nature 
to  other  men  ?  Pilate  is  deeply  affected.  His  mind  feels  a  de- 
gree of  mysterious  apprehension  of  which  it  had  never  before 
been  the  subject.  He  is  anxious  to  inquire  more  particularly 
who  the  Nazarene  is,  and  for  this  purpose  retires  with  him  again 
into  the  interior  of  the  palace. 

Here  a  memorable  conversation  takes  place  between  them. 
Pilate  begins  it  with  an  inquiry,  which  includes  within  it  nothing 
less  than  the  vital  question  of  the  whole  of  the  Christian  religion. 
"  Whence  art  thou  ?"  says  he.  You  perceive  that  we  have 
rightly  judged  of  what  had  occurred  within  him.  His  inquiry 
does  not  refer  to  the  city  or  town,  but  rather  to  the  world,  from 
whence  Jesus  proceeded.  He  wishes  to  know  whether  he  is  a 
son  of  earth,  or  has  come  from  some  other  sphere  of  the  universe. 
This  of  itself  has  become  a  problem  to  Pilate.  How  clearly, 
therefore,  must  the  stamp  of  eternity  have  shone  upon  our  Lord's 
forehead,  even  in  his  menial  form ! 

"Whence  art  thou?"  We  perceive  from  the  emphasis  laid 
upon  this  question,  that  if  the  Lord  had  replied,  "I  am  from 
heaven,"  the  governor  would  not  have  started  back  amazed,  but 
would  only  have  said,  "  Then  my  presentiment  has  not  deceived 
me,  for  it  has  already  seemed  to  me  as  if  thou  wert  only  a  stranger 
and  a  pilgrim  upon  earth."  But  the  Lord  gives  him  no  such 
answer,  and  even  thinks  fit  to  leave  him  without  any  informa- 
tion. We  must  not  regard  this  as  strange ;  for  what  benefit 
would  Pilate  have  derived,  if  the  great  mystery  had  then  been 
revealed  to  him,  that  u  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the 
Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God,  and  the  Word 
became  flesh?"  The  heart  of  the  heathen  governor  was  not 
prepared  for  it,  and  his  inquiry  concerning  the  descent  of  Jesus, 
strictly  regarded,  must  have  proceeded  more  from  vain  curiosity 
than  from  a  desire  for  salvation  and  a  need  of  help.  Besides  this, 
such  a  disclosure  respecting  Christ's  true  person  and  nature 
could  only  have  increased  Pilate's  responsibility,  and  have  ag- 


324  THE   UOLY   PLACE. 

gravated  his  condemnation  at  the  last  day,  and  hence  it  pro- 
ceeded both  from  compassion  and  sparing  mercy,  that  Jesus 
maintained  a  profound  silence  at  his  question.  How  little 
Pilate  would  have  felt  inclined  to  bow  to  the  scepter  of  the  Son 
of  G-od,  had  he  recognized  him  as  such,  is  sufficiently  evidenced 
from  the  conduct  which  he  observed  immediately  after  the  ques- 
tion. For  on  Jesus  not  at  once  replying  to  him,  he  feels 
offended,  and  addresses  the  Lord,  in  a  tone  of  extreme  excite- 
ment, with  the  arrogant  and  haughty  words,  "  Speakest  thou 
not  unto  me  ?  Knowest  thou  not  that  I  have  power  to  crucify 
thee,  and  have  power  to  release  thee  ?"  Hear  him,  only !  How 
evident  he  makes  it  appear  what  spirit  he  is  of!  Ah,  the  finest 
feelings  and  presentiments  of  the  natural  man  are  only  like  a 
rapid  vernal  vegetation  upon  a  moral  morass,  which  just  as 
rapidly  decays.  The  man  must  be  born  again,  or  else  he  con- 
tinues sold  under  sin  as  from  the  first;  and  his  life,  however 
moral  and  pious  it  may  appear,  will  only  be  an  uninterrupted 
chain  of  relapses. 

"  Speakest  thou  not  unto  me  ?"  Does  not  the  man  act  as 
if  the  Lord  committed  high  treason  by  not  immediately  giving 
him  the  desired  information?  What  presumption  1  what  pride! 
"Knowest  thou  not,"  continues  he,  "that  I  have  power  to 
crucify  thee,  and  have  power  to  release  thee?"  Oh,  what 
delusion,  what  ridiculous  and  beggarly  pride  in  one  who  had 
just  before,  in  the  presence  of  his  subjects,  manifested  a  weak- 
ness which  should  not  have  allowed  him  to  use  any  longer  the 
word  "power"  without  blushing,  especially  with  reference  to 
crucifying  and  releasing ! 

But  let  us  listen  to  what  the  Lord  says.  With  the  majestic 
composure  of  his  regal  self-consciousness,  he  replies  to  the 
judge  who  so  boldly  boasted  of  his  authority.  "  Thou  couldest 
have  no  power  at  all  against  me,  except  it  were  given  thee  from 
above ;  therefore  he  that  delivered  me  unto  thee  hath  the  greater 
sin."  Admirable  words,  perfectly  worthy  of  the  Lord  from 
heaven  and  the  Son  of  G-od!  According  to  them,  Pilate  ap- 
pears, although  acting,  in  his  own  estimation,  as  self-existent 
and  independent,  as  an  unconscious  instrument  in  the  hands  of 
the  living  God  for  a  sublime  purpose,  only  moving  within  limits 


THE   CLOSE   OF   THE   PROCEEDINGS.  325 

appointed  and  marked  out  by  an  invisible  hand.  He  is  unable 
to  do  any  thing  but  that  which  God  enables  him  to  do.  Not- 
withstanding his  cowardice  and  want  of  principle,  he  would  not 
have  delivered  Jesus  over  to  his  murderers,  if  it  had  not  been 
pre-dctermined  in  heaven.  He  walks,  indeed,  in  his  own  way, 
but  in  leading-strings  of  which  he  is  unconscious.  He  bears, 
indeed,  his  guilt;  but,  while  acting  thus  culpably,  he  promotes 
a  great  and  sacred  object,  of  which  he  is  ignorant. 

The  Lord  immediately  follows  up  what  he  has  said,  that  was 
calculated  to  humble  and  put  the  governor  to  shame,  with  some- 
thing different  and  more  consolatory.  "  Therefore,"  says  he, 
"  he  that  delivered  me  unto  thee  hath  the  greater  sin."  Pilate 
had  not  understood  our  Lord's  words,  when  he  spoke  of  a  power 
given  him  from  above,  and  had  regarded  the  Lord  with  surprise 
and  astonishment.  It  is  not  his  misunderstanding  Ms  words, 
which  evidenced  itself  in  his  gestures,  to  which  the  Lord  refers. 
He  intends  to  say,  "Because  thou  art  ignorant  of  me,  and 
knowest  not  why  I  am  come  into  the  world,  thy  guilt  is  less 
than  that  of  him  who  delivered  me  into  thy  hands."  The  latter 
was  primarily  the  high  priest  Caiaphas,  this  son  of  Abraham, 
this  master  in  Israel,  who  had  grown  up  w.  the  light  of  Moses 
and  the  prophets,  and,  therefore,  knew  what  the  title  "  Son  of 
God"  signified,  and  was  in  a  position  to  recognize  this  Son  of 
God  in  Christ.  He,  nevertheless,  pronounced  the  sentence  of 
death  upon  our  Lord,  as  a  blasphemer.  This  sin  was  the 
greater  because  committed  in  the  daylight  of  scriptural  illumina- 
tion, and  against  superior  light  and  knowledge.  It  was  so, 
because  it  was  not  committed  from  weakness,  but  purposely; 
not  from  being  taken  by  surprise,  but  considerately;  not  from 
cowardice,  but  from  wickedness.  But  observe  how  the  Lord 
here  again  appears  great.  How  he  shows  hirnsolf  afresh  as  the 
king  over  all,  yea,  as  the  judge  of  the  W4>rld.  With  the 
certainty  of  an  infallible  searcher  of  hearts,  he  weighs  sin  and 
guilt  in  the  balances  of  the  sanctuary,  appoints  the  measure  of 
future  punishment,  opens,  at  the  same  time,  to  the  unhappy 
governor  a  prospect  of  mercy  and  possible  forgiveness,  and  in  the 
latter  trait,  again  manifests  the  compassion  of  his  heart,  which 
thirsted  for  the  salvation  of  sinners. 


326  THE   HOLY   TLACE. 

The  Lord's  words  have  not  entirely  failed  of  their  effect  on 
the  mind  of  the  governor.  He  clearly  feels  in  them  the  sublime 
as  well  as  the  benevolent  and  charitable  motive  which  dictated 
them;  and  hence  he  is  induced  to  return  to  the  open  court, 
and,  with  fresh  zeal,  to  repeat  the  attempt  to  liberate  Jesus. 
But  he  then  hears  from  the  crowd  below  the  words  which  break 
the  mast  and  rudder  of  the  bark  of  his  good-will,  even  on 
venturing  out  of  the  harbor.  "If  thou  let  this  man  go,  thou 
art  not  Caesar's  friend ;  for  whosoever  maketh  himself  a  king 
(like  him  for  whom  thou  art  pleading)  speaketh  against  Caesar." 

This  outcry  hit  the  governor's  weakest  and  most  vulnerable 
side.  He  knew  Ins  master,  the*  Emperor  Tiberius,  too  well,  not 
to  foresee  that  an  accusation  like  that  which  had  just  been 
raised  against  him,  if  it  reached  his  ear,  would  find  only  too 
strong  a  response  in  his  suspicious  mind,  and  would  cost  him, 
the  governor,  his  office,  and  who  knows  what  beside.  He,  there- 
fore, felt  assured  that  the  emperor  who,  as  we  are  informed 
by  a  cotemporary  writer,  regarded  the  crime  of  leze  majesty 
as  the  highest  of  all  accusations,  would,  without  previous  inquiry, 
pronounce  the  severest  sentence  upon  him  so  soon  as  he  should 
be  informed  that  his  ^jceroy  had  set  a  man  at  liberty  who  had 
attempted  to  claim  the  title  of  king  over  Israel.  But  the 
emperor's  favor  was  every  thing  to  Pilate,  for  with  it  stood  or 
fell  his  official  dignity.  Nay,  the  emperor's  anger  would  have 
endangered  his  liberty  and  life,  and  it  was  a  grave  question 
with  Pilate  whether  he  ought  to  sacrifice  -  these  blessings  to 
justice  and  peace  of  conscience.  He  certainly  judged  differently 
in  the  sequel ;  like  many  among  us,  with  whom  it  seems  also 
a  question  whether  the  peace  of  G-od  is  the  chief  of  blessings, 
who  will  afterward  view  the  matter  in  a  different  fight.  God 
grant  that  the  hour  of  their  awaking  from  the  devil's  snare  may 
not  come  too  la^e,  that  is,  only  when  no  choice  will  be  left 
them,  because,  having  too  long  and  obstinately  chosen  the  curse 
against  their  better  knowledge,  they  are  already  given  over  to 
hardness  of  heart. 

No  sooner  does  Pilate  hear  the  unfortunate  words,  "Thou 
art  not  Caesar's  friend,"  than  his  little  remaining  ability  to  resist 
gives  way.     He  does  not  indeed  entirely  give  up  his  efforts  to 


THE   CLOSE   OF   THE   PROCEEDINGS.  327 

set  Jesus  at  liberty ;  but  what  he  undertakes  for  that  purpose, 
is  with  the  despairing  consciousness  that  a  successful  result  is  no 
longer  to  be  expected.  With  the  instability  of  one  who  is  com- 
pletely driven  from  the  field,  he  steps  forward  from  the 
prcetorium  once  more,  again  brings  the  accused  with  him  upon 
the  stage,  ascends  with  assumed  solemnity  the  judgment-seat, 
and  then  again  begins  to  harangue  the  people.  But  all  he  now 
adduces,  only  proves  the  boundless  confusion  which  reigns 
within  him,  and  seems  only  to  be  calculated  fully  to  frustrate 
his  purpose.  '"Behold  your  king,"  cries  he,  pointing  to  the 
suffering  Saviour,  torn  with  stripes,  and  covered  with  ignominy. 
Who  does  not  feel  from  this  exclamation,  .that  it  was  prompted 
by  a  mixture  of  compassion  for  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  and  of 
bitter  scorn  toward  the  hated  Jews?  He  wishes  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  to  gain  them  over  to  favor  Jesus,  and  to  give 
them  a  very  painful  blow.  The  people  naturally  felt  only  the 
poisoned  sting  of  .his  speech,  and  not  its  moving  power,  and 
that  which  Pilate  might  have  foreseen  occurs.  The  insulted 
multitude  rise  up,  like  an  irritated  viper,  and  cry  out  more 
resolutely,  angrily,  and  furiously  than  before,  "  Away  with  him, 
away  with  him,  crucify  him!"  Pilate  now  loses  all  self-pos- 
session. His  passion  even  removes  the  object  of  his  efforts  from 
his  view;  like  a  madman  destroying  his  furniture,  so  Pilate 
destroys  the  last  hope  of  Jesus's  rescue,  while  pouring  oil  into 
the  flame  of  the  people's  rage  already  brightly  burning ;  he  calls 
out  maliciously  and  with  bitter  sarcasm  to  the  raging  crowd, 
"Shall  I  crucify  your  king?  You  think,"  is  his  meaning,  "to 
blacken  my  character  with  the  emperor  as  a  protector  of,  and 
fellow-conspirator  with  a  rebel ;  but  ye  are  the  rebels ;  for  here 
is  your  chief  to  whom  ye  pay  homage."  But  he  no  longer 
knows  what  he  is  saying.  Inward  discomfiture  and  despair,  ac- 
companied by  a  powerless  thirst  for  revenge,  and  ridiculous 
arrogance,  render  him  beside  himself.  The  chief  priests,  on  the 
contrary,  know  better  how  to  preserve  their  coolness.  To  the 
ironical  question,  "Shall  I  crucify  your  king?"  they  have  im- 
mediately an  answer  at  hand,  which,  though  it  casts  a  hoirible 
light  upen  themselves,  could  not  have  been  more  ably  chosen,  had 
it  been  their  intention,  through  it,  to  give  the  governor  a  moral 


328  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

death-blow.  With  pretended  loyalty  and  devotedness  toward 
the  Roman  sovereignty,  they  cried  briefly  and  forcibly,  "We 
have  no  king  but  Caesar,"  and  thus  give  themselves,  as  regards 
Pilate,  the  menacing  aspect  as  if  it  were  they,  and  not  he,  who 
defended  the  endangered  authority  and  sovereignty  of  the 
emperor.  But  the  supposition  that  the  matter  might  be  re- 
garded in  the  same  manner  by  Tiberius,  as  well  as  the  idea  of 
the  dreadful  punishment,  which  would  impend  over  him,  if,  in 
the  emperor's  gloomy  soul  the  suspicion  should  arise  that  the 
subjugated  Hebrews  were  more  faithful  to  him  than  his  own 
servant,  quite  overpowered  the  governor.  He  now  gives  Jesus 
up  to  the  people  to  do  with  him  as  they  list.  They  have  gained 
a  complete  victory ;  but  woe,  woe  to  the  poor  unhappy  beings ! 
While  vociferating,  "We  have  no  king  but  Caesar!"  in  which 
they  rejected  the  true  Messiah,  as  well  as  their  hopes  in  him, 
they  verified  Jotham's  parable  of  the  trees,  who  chose  for  their 
king  a  fiery  bramble-bush,  and  unconsciously  pronounced  sen- 
tence and  predicted  a  curse  upon  themselves  for  thousands  of 
years.  To  this  hour  the  Jews  have  no  king,  but  live  without 
laws  and  without  a  home,  as  tolerated  aliens  under  foreign 
dominion. 

We  take  our  leave  of  Pilate,  and  bid  him  farewell,  not  with- 
out sorrow.  He  was  fitted  for  something  better  than  that  which 
we  saw  him  display.  But  he  wished  to  serve  two  masters — 
God,  who  spoke  in  his  bosom,  and  the  world  at  the  same  time ; 
and  hence  his  fall  and  his  ruin.  He  was  desirous  of  doing  what 
was  right,  but  not  wholly.  His  sentiments  were  noble,  but  he 
did  not  make  room  for  the  Divine  Spirit  to  confirm  the  feeling 
in  him  till  it  became  a  permanent  conviction  and  resolute  will. 
The  seed  of  all  the  sanctifying  impressions  he  received,  fell 
under  the  thorns  of  his  unbroken  pride  and  worldly-minded- 
ness,  and  these  sprang  up,  and  overpowered  and  choked  it 
Pilate  fell  a  sacrifice  to  his  want  of  decision  and  weakness  of 
character,  even  as  numberless  others,  though  often  the  subject 
of  fine  feelings  and  resolutions,  incessantly  become  a  prey  to  the 
power  of  Satan. 

We  have  very  scanty  intelligence  respecting  the  governor's 
subsequent  fate.     We  merely  know  that  his  inward  state  became 


THE    CLOSE    OF   THE   PROCEEDINGS.  329 

gradually  more  gloomy,  and  his  severity  increased ;  from  whence 
we  reasonably  infer  that  his  peace  was  at  an  end,  because  his 
conscience  condemned  him  on  account  of  the  crying  injustice 
committed  upon  the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  In  consequence  of 
heavily  oppressing  the  people,  in  which  he  afterward  indulged, 
he  was  removed  by  the  Syrian  Proconsul,  in  the  last  year  of  the 
reign  of  Tiberius,  and  banished  to  France.  It  is  a  question 
whether,  in  his  exile,  he  came  to  himself,  and  learned  to  know  the 
King  of  the  Jews  in  the  glory  of  his  mediatorship.  The  curse 
which  hovered  over  Pilate's  head  was  written  clearly  enough  to 
induce  us  to  hope  that  its  contents  would  bring  him  to  reflection, 
and  kindle  in  him  a  desire  for  mercy  and  forgiveness.  The 
primitive  fathers  speak  of  documents  which  Pilate  sent  to  Tibe- 
rius respecting  his  judicial  proceedings  against  Jesus,  and  his 
death,  by  which  the  latter  was  induced  to  cause  Christ  to  be 
received  among  the  gods.  "We  have  no  reason  to  doubt  the 
truth  of  tins  ancient  tradition ;  and  for  the  sake  of  those  who 
can  not  believe  in  the  superhuman  majesty  of  Christ,  sincerely 
regret  that  these  documents  are  lost.  But  to  me,  the  whole  con- 
duct which  Pilate,  though  a  heathen,  observed  toward  Jesus, 
seems  sufficiently  glorifying  to  him.  Pilate  occupies  his  place 
in  the  apostle's  creed  as  a  witness  for  the  holiness  and  super- 
human dignity  of  the  Lord  from  heaven,  as  well  as  that  Christ 
was  delivered  up  and  crucified,  not  merely  according  to  human 
will  and  design,  but  in  accordance  with  the  divine  plan  of  re- 
demption and  mercy. 

We  conclude,  while  impressively  calling  to  mind  the  words 
of  the  Lord,  "  He  that  i3  not  with  me  is  against  me,"  and  those 
of  the  apostle,  "  It  is  a  good  thing  that  the  heart  be  established 
with  grace ;"  as  also  the  prayer  of  the  Psalmist,  "Uphold  my 
goings  in  thy  paths,  that  my  footsteps  slip  not." 


XXXVIII. 
THE    WAY    TO    THE    CROSS. 

"  Then  delivered  he  him  therefore  unto  them."  How  mournful 
and  horrifying  this  sounds!  Alas  for  Pilate!  Had  he  but 
known  who  it  was,  and  all  that  he  gave  up  in  "thus  delivering 
him !  We  have  tasted  only  a  little  of  his  heavenly  manna,  but 
we  would  not  give  him  up  for  all  the  world.  "  Lord,  to  whom 
else  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life."  We 
confess,  indeed,  with  deep  humiliation,  that  we  are  frequently 
guilty  of  denying  his  name,  and  whenever  this  is  the  case,  we 
go  out,  weeping  bitterly,  with  Peter,  and  after  having  been  com- 
forted by  him  afresh,  we  again  say,  with  stronger  emphasis  than 
before,  "We  will  never  again  deliver  him  up."  We  renounce 
the  friendship,  favor,  and  honor,  of  his  adversaries.  If  the 
whole  world  were  offered  to  us,  Jesus  is  not  to  be  had  in 
exchange.  Our  union  with  him  bears  the  stamp  and  signature 
of  eternity. 

"Then  delivered  he  him  unto  them."  Oh,  if  Pilate  had  had 
any  idea  of  whose,  instrument  he  was  at  that  moment !  But  he 
is  unacquainted  with  the  precious  words,  "  God  so  loved  the 
world  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,"  and  those  of  the 
apostle,  "  He  who  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  freely  gave  him 
up  for  us  all:  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us 
all  things  ?"  These  testimonies,  however,  are  known  to  us ;  we 
also  know  their  mysterious  depth ;  we  hang  down  our  heads  at 
the  words,  "  Then  delivered  he  him  unto  them,"  sink  down  in 
the  dust,  and  adore. 

"  Then."  He  was  now  ready  and  prepared  for  the  last  great 
sacrificial  act.  He  had  fulfilled  the  law,  had  victoriously 
endured  every  trial  of  faith,  and  had  proved  himself  in  every 
ordeal  to  be  pure  and  unalloyed  gold.  He  was  "  the  Lamb 
without  spot,"  obedient  beyond  compare,  and  it  was  just  such  a 
sacrifice  as  this  that  the  God  of  holiness  required.     He  must  first 


THE    WAY   TO   THE   CROSS.  331 

be  found  worthy  of  a  crown  before  he  could  bear  the  curse.  All 
is  now  in  readiness. 

"  Then  delivered  he  him."  Now  close  the  temple,  ye  sons  of 
Aaron;  the  types  and  shadows  with  which  ye  had  to  do  have 
done  their  duty,  now  that  the  substance  has  appeared.  Lay 
aside  the  band  from  your  foreheads,  and  the  breastplate,  ye 
ministers  of  the  sanctuary;  for  know  that  another  now  justly 
adorns  himself  with  both,  and  that  your  priesthood  has  reached 
its  termination. 

The  act  of  delivering  over  the  accused  has  taken  place ;  Jesus 
is  now  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  like  a  lamb  amid  wolves,  or 
a  dove  in  the  claws  of  the  vulture.  How  was  David  in  the  right 
when  he  said,  "  I  will  rather  fall  into  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  than 
into  the  hands  of  man."  Look  how  they  treat  the  Holy  One, 
now  that  they  have  him  among  them.  They  again  assail  him 
with  the  bitterest  mockery,  cruelly  and  rudely  tear  the  purple 
robe  from  his  bleeding  body,  and  put  on  him  his  own  clothes 
again,  not  from  compassion,  but  because  it  seems  to  them  that  the 
horrible  death  to  which  they  are  now  preparing  to  conduct  him, 
s  no  longer  to  be  treated  as  a  jest  or  a  scoff,  but  requires  a  cer- 
tain solemn  seriousness. 

Have  not  the  modern  enemies  of  Christ  arrived  at  a  similar 
stage  in  their  conduct  toward  him?  When,  fifty  years  ago, 
the  French  illumination  spread  itself  over  the  nations  like  a 
poisonous  atmosphere,  Christ  again  stood  as  a  mock  king  on  the 
stage  of  the  world ;  and  he  that  thought  he  possessed  any  thing 
of  wit  and  humor  made  use  of  them  to  brand  both  him  and  his 
cause  with  the  stamp  of  ridicule.  The  proceedings  have  since 
assumed  another  and  more  serious  appearance.  It  is  almost 
unanimously  agreed,  in  the  present  day,  that  Christ  is  too  great 
and  too  noble  for  mere  trifling.  His  person  and  doctrine  are 
thought  worthy  of  being  treated  scientifically,  and  thus  they  put 
on  the  dishonored  Jesus  his  garment  again,  inasmuch  as  thoy 
do  not  hesitate  to  restore  to  him  the  honor  of  being  one  of  the 
wisest  and  noblest  men  that  ever  trod  the  earth.  But  all  this 
gravity,  regarded  in  the  light,  is  nothing  else  than  a  solemn 
introduction  to  the  act  of  crucifixion.  Christ,  doubtless  with 
gravity  and  decorum,  is  declared  in  the  name  of  science,  to  be 


332  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

a  mere  man,  and  therefore  an  enthusiast  and  a  blasphemer, 
justly  condemned  to  be  crucified,  because  he  had  affirmed  on 
oath  that  he  was  more  than  a  man,  and  hence  was  guilty  of  blas- 
phemous perjury,  in  the  judgment  of  the  most  modern  philos- 
ophy. In  truth,  notwithstanding  all  appearance  to  the  con- 
trary, the  anti-christian  spirit  has  only  entered  upon  a  new  and 
more  dangerous  phase  of  development,  and  has  approached  con- 
siderably nearer  its  perfect  maturity.  Beneath  the  scoff  and 
scorn  of  earlier  times  there  was  always  an  accusing  conscience, 
which  was  endeavored  to  be  kept  down  and  overpowered. 
Behind  modern  unbelief  is  encamped  the  deepest  and  most  hope- 
less state  of  death.  With  philosophical  pride  they  feel  assured 
of  the  incontrovertible  foundation  for  their  views  of  Christ,  and 
thus  has  unbelief  expanded  itself  into  strong  delusion. 

The  change  of  garments  which  took  place  in  the  court  of  the 
praetorium  reminds  me  of  an  act  in  our  own  life.  In  the  days 
of  our  blindness  we  had  also  divested  the  Lord  Jesus  of  the 
glory  of  his  inherent  splendor,  while  presuming  to  deny  one 
or  other  particular  concerning  him,  so  as  to  leave  him  little 
more  than  the  title  of  a  Jewish  Eabbi,  or  the  Sage  of  Nazareth. 
But  how  did  we  afterward  alter  our  course,  when  the  Lord 
stripped  us  of  the  garments  of  our  imaginary  righteousness,  and 
in  the  mirror  of  his  law  exhibited  to  us  our  real  form !  How 
hastily  did  we  then  put  upon  Immanuel  his  own  raiment !  We 
first  gave  thee  back  thy  Messias-crown,  and  then  thy  sacrificial 
and  priestly  robes,  and,  finally,  thy  diadem  as  the  King  of  Glory ; 
for  the  awakened  necessities  of  our  hearts  had  rectified  our 
vision,  and  sharpened  it  for  thy. beauty.  Amid  many  tears  of 
repentance  and  delight,  we  again  clothed  thee  in  thy  original 
attire.  Thou  now  standest  before  us  in  thy  full  and  complete 
array,  and  we  will  never  cease  to  bow  the  knee  before  thee,  and 
to  rejoice,  and  say  with  Jacob,  "  Judah,  thou  art  he  whom  thy 
brethren  shall  praise !" 

After  the  soldiers  had  made  their  preparations,  the  awful  sign 
appears,  which  has  since  become  the  standard  of  the  kingdom 
of  Christ,  and  the  token  of  our  salvation.  During  the  space  of 
three  thousand  years  it  had  been  constantly  symbolized  to  the 
view  of  the   believing  Israelites.     It  is   even  reflected  in  the 


TUE   WAY   TO   THE   CROSS.  333 

peculiar  manner  in  which  the  dying  patriarch  Jacob,  with  crossed 
hands,  blessed  his  grandsons  Ephraim  and  Manasseh.  It  glim- 
mered no  less  in  the  wave-offerings  of  the  tabernacle  and  temple, 
which,  as  is  well  known,  were  wont  to  be  waved  so  as  to  make 
the  form  of  a  cross  appear.  In  the  wilderness,  the  sign  was 
elevated  to  support  the  brazen  serpent,  and  the  spirit  of  proph- 
ecy interwove  it  in  the  figurative  language  of  David's  Psalms, 
when  placing  in  the  mouth  of  the  future  Messiah  the  words, 
11  They  pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet." 

Look,  yonder  they  bring  it !  According  to  the  Roman  custom, 
all  who  were  condemned  to  the  punishment  of  the  cross  were 
compelled  to  carry  that  instrument  of  their  death  to  the  place  of 
execution ;  and  even  the  divine  sufferer  is  not  spared  this  dis- 
grace and  toil.  Without  mercy  they  lay  on  his  wounded  back 
the  horrible  instrument  of  torture ;  and,  after  having  given  him 
for  his  escort  two  grievous  criminals,  similarly  burdened  and 
condemned  to  the  same  death,  they  open  the  gate  of  the  court- 
yard toward  the  street,  in  order  at  length  to  satisfy  the  people, 
who  had  been  impatiently  awaiting  the  cruel  spectacle.  A  low 
murmur  of  malicious  joy  and  profound  excitement  pervades  the 
mass  when  the  three  cross-bearers  make  their  appearance.  The 
procession  sets  itself  in  motion.  In  the  van,  an  armed  troop  on 
foot  and  on  horseback ;  then  the  three  victims,  with  their 
crosses,  surrounded  by  their  executioners;  behind  these,  the 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  authorities  of  the  nation ;  and,  finally,  the 
crowding,  gaping,  innumerable  multitude. 

We  silently  join  them  in  spirit.  Oh,  what  a  path  is  that 
which  we  now  tread !  Only  think,  it  is  thus  the  unhappy  world 
repels  the  man  who  entered  upon  it  heralded  by  angels,  and  in 
the  midst  of  heavenly  songs  of  praise.  It  is  thus  she  rewards 
him  for  the  unwearied  love  with  which  he  poured  upon  her  the 
abundance  of  all  conceivable  benefits  and  mercies!  Oh,  who 
that  is  still  inclined  to  doubt  whether  mankind  was  worthy  of 
eternal  perdition  without  the  intervention  of  a  mediator,  let  Mm 
cast  a  look  at  this  path  of  suffering,  and  convince  himself  of  the 
contrary !  For  why  is  the  Holy  One  thus  dragged  along,  unless 
it  be  that  we  loved  sin  too  ardently  not  to  hate  a  man,  even  to 
the  death,  who  made  himself  known  as  the  deliverer  from  it. 


334  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

Look  there,  lie  bends  beneath  his  heavy  burden!  Dreadful 
and  horrible  is  his  situation!  All  his  friends  have  forsaken 
him,  and  even  heaven  is  silent  above  him,  as  if  it  also  had  rejected 
him.  -An  ancient  legend  states,  that  Veronica,  a  young  maiden, 
stepped  up  to  him  weeping  from  the  crowd,  and  with  compas- 
sionate hand  wiped  the  bloody  sweat  from  his  wounded  brow. 
In  gratitude  for  this  service,  the  Lord  left  her  his  image  on  the 
napkin.  This  is  only  a  fiction  and  a  legend,  but  the  sentiment 
it  conveys  is  significant  and  true.  Whoever  is  brought  by  love 
tc  the  Saviour,  he  impresses  his  thorn-crowned  likeness  on  their 
hearts,  as  the  gift  of  his  reciprocal  affection;  so  that  he  who 
has  received  it,  henceforth  carries  it  about  with  him  as  a  most 
valuable  legacy,  and  can  never  more  turn  away  his  eyes  from 
beholding  it. 

According  to  another  legend,  as  Jesus  was  passing  by,  the 
Jew  Ahasuerus  stepped  out  of  his  dwelling,  and  with  devilish 
hatred,  hit,  with  his  foot,  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  in  consequence 
of  which,  he  began  to  totter  beneath  his  load,  and  even  to  sink 
to  the  ground.  This  occasioned  the  denunciation,  that  he  should 
henceforward  wander  restless  and  fugitive  through  the  world, 
and  not  die  until  the  Lord  should  come  again.  This  Ahasuerus 
is  "the  Wandering  Jew."  Here  again  we  have  to  do  with  a 
myth ;  but  it  also  has  its  truth  and  deep  meaning.  The  wan- 
dering Jew  represents  the  people  of  Israel,  who  crucified  our 
Lord,  and  in  satanic  delusion  pronounced  upon  themselves  the 
awful  anathema,  "  His  blood  be  upon  us  and  our  children." 
They  now  roam  about,  fugitive  and  homeless,  aliens  among 
all  nations,  the  offscouring  of  the  world ;  and  die  not,  and  will 
not  die,  till  the  Lord  shall  come  again  to  complete  his  kingdom 
upon  earth.  But  then  they  will  die,  by  ceasing  to  be  an  excom- 
municated and  outlawed  people,  and  rise  again  as  a  new  and 
glorious  race,  singing  Hosanna  to  David  their  true  King.  The 
wondrous  stars  of  the  promises  given  to  Abraham's  seed  shine 
for  thousands  of  years,  and  send  their  beams  to  the  end  of  days. 

Yonder  they  conduct  the  Man  of  Sorrows !  One  can  nqt  re- 
flect who  it  is  that  is  thus  laden  with  the  accursed  tree,  without 
feeling  one's  heart  petrified  with  surprise  and  astonishment. 
But  it  is  well  for  us  that  he  traversed  this  path.     Only  observe 


THE   WAY   TO   THE   CROSS.  335 

how  the  form  of  the  Lamb  -which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world,  is  so  clearly  expressed  in  him.  Behold  him,  and  say  if 
you  do  not  feel  as  if  you  heard  the  ancient  words  proceed  from 
his  silent  lips,  "  Sacrifice  and  offering  thou  didst  not  desire,  a 
body  hast  thou  prepared  for  me.  Lo!  I  come,  I  delight  to  do 
thy  will,  0  my  God!  yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart."  Had 
he  shrunk  back  from  this  fatal  path,  his  road  to  suffering  would 
have  represented  to  us  that  on  which,  when  dying,  we  should 
have  quitted  the  world.  Instead  of  soldiers,  the  emissaries  of 
Satan  would  have  escorted  us ;  instead  of  the  accursed  tree,  the 
curse  of  the  law  itself;  instead  of  fetters,  the  bands  of  eterna. 
wrath  would  have  encircled  us,  and  despair  have  lashed  us  with 
its  fiery  scourge.  Now,  on  the  contrary,  angels  of  peace,  sent 
by  Eternal  Love,  will  at  length  bear  us  on  a  path  of  light, 
illumined  by  heavenly  promises,  to  Abraham's  bosom.  To  whom 
are  we  indebted  for  tins  ?  Solely  to  the  man  who  totters  yonder 
under  the  most  horrible  of  all  burdens  ;  and  who  carries  away 
with  him  every  thing  which  stood  opposed  to  us  and  threatened 
us  with  destruction. 

Certainly,  it  may  still  be  the  case,  that  during  our  earthly  pil- 
grimage we  are  led  on  similar  paths  to  that  on  which  we  see  Jesus, 
our  Head,  proceeding.  For  the  world  hates  his  members  like 
himself;  and  Satan  ceases  not  to  desire  to  have  his  redeemed, 
that  he  may  sift  them  as  wheat.  But  heaven  is  no  longer  closed 
over  our  path  of  suffering  and  disgrace,  nor  does  the  black  cloud 
of  rejection  and  the  curse  obscure  it.  The  sword  of  God  has 
returned  to  its  scabbard,  and  peace  and  hope  are  the  gracious 
companions  who  walk  by  our  side.  Christ  has  deprived  our 
fearful  path  of  its  horrors,  our  burdens  of  their  overpowering 
weight,  our  disgrace  and  need  of  their  deadly  stings,  and  placed 
us  in  a  situation  to  -say  with  the  royal  Psalmist,  "  Yea,  though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no 
evil ;  for  thou  art  with  me ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort 
me." 

Blessed,  therefore,  be  the  path  of  our  Prince  of  Peace  to  the 
cross !  Let  us  not  cease  to  accompany  him  daily  thereon  in  the 
spirit.  It  will  unspeakably  sweeten  our  own  painful  path ;  for 
why  does  he  take  this  horrible  road,  but  to  enable  us  to  traverse 


336  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

ours  with  heads  erect,  because  we  are  freed  from  curse  and 
care.  Upon  his  path  he  not  only  carries  all  our  sins  to  the 
grave,  and  breaks  a  passage  through  all  the  obstacles  which 
blocked  up  our  access  to  the  Father,  but  he  makes,  at  the  same 
time,  all  the  bitter  waters  of  the  desert  sweet,  and  neither  leaves 
nor  forsakes  us,  till  he  brings  us  safe  to  our  heavenly  home. 


XXXIX. 
SIMON    OF    GYRENE. 

Pilate,  driven  from  the  field  by  the  determined  opposition  of 
the  enemies  of  Jesus,  contrary  to  the  voice  of  justice  in  his 
breast,  has  delivered  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  into  the  hands  of 
his  murderers,  who  hasten  to  carry  the  execution  into  effect  as 
quickly  as  possible.  No  appeal  was  permitted  to  a  rebel  after 
being  sentenced ;  on  the  contrary,  a  Roman  law  commanded  that 
such  should  be  led  away  to  execution  immediately  after  sentence 
had  been  pronounced.  This  was  believed  applicable  to  him, 
whom  the  people  thought  they  could  not  remove  soon  enough 
from  human  society,  as  being  a  rebel  against  Grod,  against 
Moses,  and  against  the  emperor. 

We  left  the  Saviour  at  the  close  of  our  last  meditation  on  the 
road  to  the  fatal  hill.  The  procession  moves  slowly  forward 
enveloped  in  clouds  of  dust.  What  a  running  together  from 
every  side  !  What  a  tumultuous  noise  and  horrible  din  !  Spears, 
helmets,  and  drawn  swords  glitter  in  the  sunshine.  Soldiers  on 
foot  and  horseback,  priests  and  scribes,  high  and  low,  shrieking 
women  and  crying  children,  Jews  and  heathens,  all  minglet 
together  in  the  crowd.  At  the  head  of  the  procession,  surrounded 
by  guards,  the  three  delinquents,  panting  slowly  forward  under 
the  weight  of  their  instruments  of  death.  Two  of  them  robbers 
and  murderers,  and  between  them,  he,  to  whom,  on  closer  ob- 
servation, the  whole  of  this  hideous  exhibition  has  reference. 
Behold  that  bleeding  man,  who,  according  to  appearance,  is  the 


SIMON   OF    CYREXE.  337 

most  guilty  of  the  three !  But  we  know  nim,  He  also 
bears  his  cross,  and  thus  claims  our  sympathy  in  the  highest 
degree. 

Crosses  were  often  seen,  under  the  dominion  of  the  Romans. 
A  rebellious  slave  was  very  frequently  condemned  to  this  most 
shameful  and  painful'  of  all  punishments.  But  there  is  some- 
thing very  particular  and  peculiar  about  the  cross  which  we  see 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel  bearing  to  Calvary.  If  we  refer  to  the 
roll  of  the  Divine  Law,  Deut.  xxi.  22 :  "  If  a  man  have  com- 
mitted a  sin  worthy  of  death,  and  he  be  to  be  put  to  death,  and 
thou  hang  him  on  a  tree,  his  body  shall  not  remain  all  night 
upon  the  tree,  but  thou  shalt  in  any  wise  bury  him  that  clay  (for 
he  that  is  hanged  is  accursed  of  God),  that  thy  land  be  not 
defiled,  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee  for  an  inheritance." 
This  remarkable  ordinance  of  God  was  punctually  observed  in 
Israel.  As  often  as  a  criminal  was  nailed  to  the  tree  of  shame, 
he  was  regarded,  according  to  the  words  of  the  law,  as  an  ob- 
ject of  profound  abhorrence  to  the  Almighty,  and  the  people 
were  conscious  that  God  could  only  look  upon  the  land  with 
anger  and  disgust,  so  long  as  the  dead  body  of  the  criminal 
was  not  removed  out  of  his  sight.  But  such  of  them  as  were 
enlightened,  well  knew  that  all  this  included  in  it  a  typical 
meaning,  and  had  a  prophetic  reference  to  one  who  should  hang 
upon  a  tree,  on  whom  the  vials  of  heaven's  wrath  would  be 
poured  out,  but  in  whose  atoning  sufferings,  the  curse  and  con- 
demnation of  a  sinful  world  would  reach  its  termination.  But 
who  would  dare  to  seek  in  Christ,  the  individual  thus  laden 
with  the  divine  curse,  and  assert  that  the  ordinance  in  the 
wilderness  had  found  its  fulfillment  on  Golgotha,  if  the  word  of 
God  itself  had  not  justified  such  a  conclusion?  That  such  is 
actually  the  case,  turn  to  Galatians,  iii.  13,  where  the  apostle 
states  frankly,  and  without  circumlocution,  that  u  Christ  hath 
redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for 
us,  as  it  is  written,  Cursed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree, 
that  the  blessing  of  Abraham  might  come  on  the  Gentiles 
through  Jesus  Christ." 

In  the  type  of  the  brazen  serpent,  as  well  as  in  the  divine 
ordinances  respecting  one  that  was  hanged  on  a  tree,  the.  clearest 

15 


338  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

light  is  thrown  on  the  horrible  cross  which  this  Son  of  God  is 
carrying  to  Calvary.  Those  beams  evidently  form  the  stake 
upon  which,  according  to  the  promise,  the  storm  of  Divine  judg- 
ment should  be  discharged.  It  is  the  scaffold  where,  according 
to  Romans,  hi.  25,  God  resolved  to  declare  his  righteousness  for 
the  remission  of  sins  that  are  past,  through  the  forbearance  of 
God.  The  Moriah  where,  for  the  benefit  of  a  sinful  world,  the 
curse  pronounced  in  paradise  is  endured  in  the  sacred  humanity 
of  the  great  Surety.  The  altar  of  burnt-offering,  on  which  the 
Lamb  of  God  submitted  to  the  sum  total  of  that  punishment 
which  ought  in  justice  to  have  fallen  upon  me;  and  the  dying 
bed,  where  death,  over  which  Satan  has  power,  and  to  which  I 
was  subject  by  a  sentence  of  the  Supreme  tribunal,  is  per- 
mitted to  seize  upon,  and  slay  another,  in  order  that  lie  might 
forever  lose  his  claim  upon  me.  Such  is  the  mysterious  cross 
which  you  see  borne  toward  Calvary.  It  is  the  sepulcher  of  a 
world;  for  the  innumerable  host  of  those  that  are  saved,  died,  in 
the  eye  of  God,  with  Christ  upon  it.  It  is  the  conductor  which 
carries  off  the  destroying  flash  from  our  race,  by  his  attracting 
it  upon  himself;  the  tree  of  life,  "the  leaves  of  which  are  for 
the  healing  of  the  nations." 

Jesus  carries  his  cross.  When  did  he  ever  show  so  plainly  in 
his  outward  circumstances  that  he  bore  the  curse,  as  now? 
If  the  voice  of  God  had  sounded  directly  down  from  heaven, 
and  said,  "This  Just  One  is  now  enduring  the  sentence  pro- 
nounced upon  you,"  it  could  not  have  afforded  us  more  certainty 
than  by  this  living  figure  of  bearing  the  cross.  Its  language  is 
powerful,  and  points  out,  even  to  a  simple  child,  wherein  we 
ought  to  seek  the  final  cause  of  Christ's  passion.  We  find  the 
Holy  Sufferer,  as  you  know,  outside  the  gates  of  Jerusalem. 
The  Scriptures  attach  great  importance  to  the  fact  that  he  was 
led  away  out  of  the  holy  city.  Thus  we  read  in  Hebrews,  xiii. 
11,  12,  "  The  bodies  of  those  beasts,  whose  blood  is  brought  into 
the  sanctuary  by  the  high  priest  for  sin,  are  burned  without  the 
camp.  Wherefore,  Jesus  also,  that  he  might  sanctify  the  people 
with  his  own  blood,  suffered  without  the  gate."  Here  Christ  is 
evidently  represented  as  the  true  antitype  of  the  Old  Testament 
sin-offerings.     But  since  we  know  the  nature  of  these,  and  how, 


SIMON    OF    CYIJENH.  339 

by  this  devotional  act,  the  sins  of  the  transgressors  were  imputed 
to  the  animals  to  be  sacrificed ;  that  thus  they  became  objects  of 
abhorrence,  and  their  bodies  were  not  only  removed  from  the 
neighborhood  of  the  temple,  but  even  burned  with  fire,  in  tes- 
timony of  what  was  justly  due  to  the  sinner ;  and  that  the  latter, 
after  such  sacrificial  act,  was  absolved  and  declared  blameless; 
so  it  almost  clearly  appears,  that  in  the  passage  above  quoted, 
the  apostle  can  not  and  does  not  intend  to  say  any  thing  else  than 
that  Christ,  on  his  being  led  out  of  the  gates,  was  in  fact  bur- 
dened with  our  sins,  and  bore  our  curse.  Thus  it  is  we  that 
tread  the  path  to  the  place  of  execution ;  for  he  does  so  in  our 
stead.  That  such  is  really  the  case,  and  thdt  He  does  not  proceed 
upon  that  road  as  the  holy  Jesus,  but  as  the  representative  of 
our  sinful  race,  becomes  more  apparent  at  every  step.  Hence  it 
is  comprehensible  how  the  Eternal  Father  could  give  him  up  to 
such  nameless  ignominy  and  torment.  It  is  on  this  account  that 
no  angel  from  above  hastens  to  his  aid;  no  fire  falls  from 
heaven  to  consume  his  murderers;  rather  do  the  clouds  pass 
quietly  and  silently  over  the  dreadful  scene,  as  if  assent  were 
given  above  to  the  horrible  transactions  below;  nay,  the  Just 
One  may,  for  this  reason,  while  wearied  to  death,  be  ready  to 
break  down  under  the  burden  of  his  cross,  without  any  one  in* 
heaven  or  on  earth  appearing  to  grieve  at  it.  The  gates  of  the 
eternal  sanctuary  are  closed ;  the  portals  of  the  Almighty's  abode 
are  shut ;  and  the  same  God  who  delivered  righteous  Lot  out  of 
Sodom,  Daniel  from  the  den  of  lions,  and  commanded  the  en- 
raged Laban  to  speak  only  kindly  to  Jacob,  and  who  says  to  all 
his  saints,  "Fear  not,  for  I  am  with  you" — this  Keeper  of 
Israel  seems  to  slumber  and  sleep  with  regard  to  his  best  Be- 
loved, and  to  have  forgotten  respecting  him  who  was  his 
"  fellow,"  his  sweet  words  of  promise  :  "  Can  a  woman  forget  her 
socking  child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  (he  son 
of  her  womb?  Yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee." 
All  the  circumstances  in  which  we  see  the  Saviour  are  truly  dread- 
fill  and  appalling;  but  all  exclaim,  with  the  most  powerful 
emphasis,  "Behold  the  Lord  Jesus,  laden  with  the  sinner's 
curse !" 

We  have  been  contemplating  Jesus  with  the  sinner's  cross. 


340  THE    HOLY   PLACE. 

The  scene  now  changes,  and  a  new  figure  presents  itself  to  our 
view — the  sinner  with  the  cross  of  Jesus. 

The  Holy  One  had  proceeded  forward  some  distance  with  his 
heavy  burden,  when  his  blood-thirsty  attendants  begin  to  fear 
lest  he  should  break  down  under  his  load,  and  entirely  succumb 
from  exhaustion  before  the  execution.  To  prevent  this,  they 
look  about  for  some  one  on  whpm  they  may  lay  the  cross  of 
Jesus  for  the  remainder  of  the  way ;  and  their  eyes  soon  light 
upon  a  stranger,  just  coming  from  the  field,  whom  the}''  the 
sooner  select  for  this  purpose  from  thinking  they  see  in  his  looks 
a  secret  sympathy  with  the  Nazarene.  Tins  was  Simon,  born  at 
Cyrcne,  in  Africa.  We  are  not  informed  whether  he  belonged, 
at  that  time,  to  the  secret  friends  of  Jesus ;  but  he  was  certainly 
regarded  as  such  by  the  people,  and  probably  not  without  reason. 
At  least  Simon's  two  sons,  Alexander  and  Rufus,  were  afterward 
designated  as  true  Christians ;' and  the  inference  from  the  sons 
to  the  father  is  probably  correct.  Suffice  it  to  say,  this  Jew, 
Simon,  was  stopped,  and  compelled  to  bear  the  Lord's  cross. 
At  first  he  resisted  being  thus  burdened  and  disgraced,  but  he 
soon  reconciled  himself  to  it,  and  then  bore  it  willingly. 

With  reference  to  this  circumstance,  the  words  of  Jesus  are 
wont  to  be  applied — "Whoso  will  be  my  disciple,  let  him  take 
up  his  cross  and  follow  me;"  and  occasion  is  then  taken  from 
the  history  of  this  part  of  the  passion,  to  treat  of  the  reproach 
we  have  to  bear  for  Christ's  sake.  But  this  seems  to  me  not 
entirely  correct,  since  Simon  does  not  bear  his  own  cross,  but 
that  on  which  Jesus  died.  Something  very  different  is,  there- 
fore, reflected  in  the  symbolical  form  of  the  cross-bearer.  It 
presents  to  our  view  the  inward  position  of  faith  with  respect 
to  the  cross  of  Christ,  that  is,  to  the  sacrifice  and  act  of  redemp- 
tion accomplished  upon  it.  We  ought  to  be  cross-bearers  in 
the  same  sense  in  which  Simon  was,  only  spiritually  so.  We 
are  such,  when  the  cross  of  Christ  becomes  ours  in  the  way  of 
self-accusation,  believing  appropriation,  and  continual  dying 
with  Christ. 

He  who,  in  spirit,  sees  Jesus  proceeding  toward  Calvary 
under  the  burden  of  his  cross,  will,  in  so  far,  immediately  become 
like  Simon,  in  being  compelled,  by  compassion  and  right  feeling, 


SIMON   OF   CYRENE.  341 

to  remove  the  dreadful  load  from  the  innocent  Jesus,  and  cast 
it  upon  the  wicked  Jews,  or  upon  a  blind  and  merciless  power, 
which  he  calls  fate  and  chance,  or  even  upon  the  all  over-ruling 
God  himself,  whom  he  secretly  accuses  of  not  having  prevented 
such  a  piece  of  crying  injustice.  But  relieving  Christ  of  his 
burden  in  this  manner,  only  proves  great  mental  blindness.  It 
is  true,  the  commencement  of  all  Christian  life  begins  by  our  being 
inwardly  constrained  to  take  the  burden  from  the  Saviour,  not, 
however,  in  order  to  hurl  it  upon  others,  but  in  sincere  self-con- 
demnation, to  take  it  upon  ourselves.  An  enlightened  conscience 
urges  upon  us  the  conviction  of  our  own  guilt.  We  shrink  back 
from  it,  and  resist  with  all  our  power,  but  in  vain.  The  holy 
law,  the  dreadful  mirror  of  the  Divine  perfections,  now  no  longer 
misunderstood,  stands  before  us,  and  who  will  undertake  to  belie 
or  deceive  it?  Possibly  the  lightning  that  strikes  us,  flashes 
upon  us,  at  first,  only  from  one  of  the  ten  commandments.  We 
then  think  we  may  be  able  to  save  ourselves  in  the  other  nine, 
and  we  cast  ourselves,  as  into  a  safe  fortress,  perhaps  into  the 
first  command,  "  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me.1' 
But  the  Spirit,  who  has  now  begun  to  enlighten  us,  conducts 
us  ever  deeper  into  the  inmost  nature  of  the  divine  law,  and  it 
is  then  said  to  us,  "  Thou  who  supposest  thou  hast  kept  the  first 
commandment,  hast  thou  loved  God  from  thy  infancy,  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  mind,  and  strength  ?" 

On  hearing  this  heart-searching  question,  we  hasten  to  turn 
our  backs  on  the  first,  and  then  flee,  say  to  the  sixth.  We  are 
aware  of  never  having  sought  another's  life,  nor  ever  committed 
murder.  Nevertheless,  we.  now  hear  it  thundered  in  our  ears, 
"Whoso  hateth  his  brother  is  a  murderer;"  and  thus  the 
supposed  fortress  of  the  sixth  commandment  has  a  breach. 

We  cast  ourselves  into  the  ninth,  and  think  we  have  never 
been  guilty  of  bearing  false  witness.  But  it  is  then  said,  "  How 
dost  thou  dare  to  appeal  to  the  ninth  commandment?  Hast 
thou  never  told  a  falsehood,  never  deceived,  dissembled,  nor 
flattered?"  We  hear,  but  do  not  let  the  voice  of  conscience 
finish  its  speech,  before  we  retire,  without  hesitation,  into  the 
seventh,  and  say,  very  confidently,  "  I  have  kept  this,  I  never 
committed  adultery."      But  we  immediately  hear  the   appalling 


342  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

words,  "He  that  looketh  upon  a  woman  to  lust  after  her,  hath 
committed  adultery;"  and  we  flee  from  the  seventh  command- 
ment as  from  a  fire  which  threatens  to  consume  us. 

Whither  now?  possibly  to  the  fifth.  Alas,  both  father  and 
mother  accuse  us.  To  the  eighth  ?  It  really  seems  as  if  we 
should  find  shelter  there  for  we  are  no  thieves.  But  woe  unto 
us!  not  far  from  it  stands  the  tenth,  with  its  injunction,  "Thou 
shalt  not  covet!"  This  finally  strips  us  of  every  thing,  and 
terminates  the  whole  process  by  a  general  condemnation.  All 
our  boasting  is  then  at  an  end.  We  hesitate,  indeed,  to  give  up. 
We  assemble  together  all  our  so-called  good  works ;  but  scarcely 
do  we  begin  to  derive  comfort  from  this  dubious  source,  when  a 
light  shoots  down  upon  it  from  the  sanctuary  of  God,  in  whose 
bright  and  burning  rays,  even  our  best  performances  appear  as  a 
worm-eaten  fruit  of  impure  self-love. 

Thus  we  are  compelled  to  pronounce  sentence  upon  ourselves. 
But  what  threatens  transgressors,  such  as  we,  during  the  re- 
mainder of  our  existence  ? — "  Tribulation  and  anguish  upon 
every  soul  that  doeth  evil."  "The  wrath  of  Grod  is  revealed 
from  heaven  against  all  ungodliness."  We  read  and  tremble, 
"  Woe  is  me,"  we  exclaim,  "  Miserable  man  that  I  am !  I  am 
already  condemned,  and  accursed,  and  lost!"  We  refuse  to 
believe  it,  but  the  appalling  words,  "Thou  art  the  man!" 
resound  on  every  side ;  and  it  seems  as  if  the  very  walls  of  our 
chambers,  and  the  joists  and  beams  cried  out  against  us.  A 
thousand  reminiscences  of  past  transgressions  crowd  around  us 
like  avenging  spirits  exclaiming,  "Thou  shalt  surely  die!"  and 
the  dreadful  words  haunt  us  even  in  our  dreams.  We  imagine 
we  read  them  in  the  stars,  and  that  they  are  written  on  each  of 
our  days.  Thus  we  are"  at  length  compelled  to  acknowledge 
that  the  sentence  is  just.  Christ's  cross  is  laid  upon  us,  that 
is,  we  find  ourselves  guilty  of  the  cross,  since  we  feel  that 
we  are  ourselves  exposed  to  the  curse  which  Christ  endured 
upon  it. 

When,  in  this  sense,  we  have  taken  the  cross  of  Christ  upon 
us,  Grod  who  has  humbled  us,  is  wont,  in  due  time,  to  comfort 
us.  We  again  arise  from  the  darkness  and  horrors  of  self- 
condemnation  into  the   crimson-colored  sunshine  of  the   atone- 


SIMON"   OF   CYRENE.  343 

ment.  In  the  cross  of  Christ,  we  recognize  me  mysterious  tree, 
on  which  the  sentence  which  menaced  us  with  eternal  destruction 
has  long  ago  been  endured.  We  apprehend  the  mystery  of  the 
cross  in  its  consolatory  depth,  and  enter  into  a  new  relation 
with  it,  embrace  it  as  our  only  refuge,  and  believingly  appro- 
priate the  merits  of  him  who  suffered  upon  it.  We  now  take 
it  in  a  different  manner  upon  us  than  before;  certainly  more 
from  necessity  at  first  than  desire.  Proud  human  nature  resists 
the  idea  of  being  saved  by  grace.  In  the  sequel,  however,  we 
become  reconciled  to  the  wondrous  burden,  and  finally  bear  it 
with  delight,  even  as  an  heir  his  inheritance,  as  a  king  his 
scepter,  as  a  warrior  his  sword  and  shield,  as  a  conqueror  the 
flag  of  victory,  as  a  liberated  debtor  his  receipt  in  full,  and  as  a 
nobleman  the  diploma  of  his  nobility. 

Thus,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  we  become  like  Simon  of  Cyrene. 
We  enter  into  the  most  vital,  fervent,  and  blissful  fellowship 
with  the  cross  of  Christ.  We  are  every  where  and  continually 
occupied  with  this  cross,  and  it  becomes  the  sign  by  which  we 
are  known.  If  listened  to  .in  our  chamber,  we  are  heard  pray- 
ing beneath  the  cross.  If  we  say,  "Abba,  father,"  it  is  the 
cross  which  encourages  us  to  do  so.  If  we  hope  for  a  favorable 
'  answer  to  our  requests,  the  cross  emboldens  us  to  expect  it.  If 
our  conversation  is  in  heaven,  the  cross  is  the  heavenly  ladder, 
on  the  steps  of  which  we  rise  above  the  world,  death,  and  hell. 
The  cross  forms  the  focus  of  all  our  heartfelt  melody.  If  a 
gleam  of  joy  rests  upon  our  foreheads,  the  cross  is  the  sun  from 
whence  it  proceeds.  If  we  are  courageous,  it  is  in  the  shadow 
of  the  cross.  If  we  overcome  the  temptations  of  the  wicked  one, 
the  cross  of  Christ  is  the  banner  under  which  we  conquer 

We  do  not  indeed  always  embrace  the  cross  with  equal 
warmth  and  fervor.  Occasionally,  we  bear  it  with  indiffer- 
ence, unwillingly,  and  even  as  a  burden.  This  is  the  case  either 
when  the  root  of  our  life  again  sinks  imperceptibly  deeper  into  the 
soil  of  this  world ;  or  when  the  Lord  causes  our  mountain  to  stand 
strong,  and  we  take  fresh  occasion  to  please  ourselves  with  our 
own  doings.  But  God,  who  is  as  faithful  in  humbling  as  in  com- 
forting us,  knows  how  to  render  the  cross  sweet  to  us,  by  giving 
up  our  old  man  to  a  renewed  crucifixion,  and  by  reviving  and 


344  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

refreshing  in  us  the  consciousness  of  our  wretchedness  in  the 
midst  of  distress,  disgrace,  and  pressure.  Generally  speaking, 
the  experience  of  all  who,  in  faith,  take  upon  them  the  cross  of 
Christ,  agrees  in  this,  that  they  are  ever  longer  drawn  into  the 
death  of  him  who  hung  upon  the  tree.  They  decrease.  They 
consciously  become  personally  poorer,  more  worthless  and  help- 
less— nay,  in  time,  nothing  remains  in  them  of  which  they  might 
boast  as  a  ground  of  justification.  But  the  more  completely 
they  suffer  shipwreck  as  to  every  thing  of  their  own,  the  more 
valuable  does  the  cross  of  Calvary  become  to  them,  as  the  only 
plank  of  rescue  from  the  surge.  How  fervently  is  it  then  again 
embraced,  how  highly  and  loudly  praised,  and  how  bedewed 
with  warm  tears  of  grateful  thanksgiving,  until  at  length  the 
whole  inward  life  moves  round  the  cross,  in  ever  closer  drawn 
circles,  like  the  revolving  planets  round  their  several  suns. 

May  the  Lord  be  pleased  to  impress  the  form  of  Simon  the 
cross-bearer  ever  more  clearly  upon  our  inner  man ;  and  in  order 
that  this  figure  may  be  the  more  fully  produced  in  us,  may  he 
the  more  and  more  comprehensively  unvail  to  us  the  corruption 
which  adheres  to  us  by  nature !  It  is  only  thus  that  we  learn 
to  bear  the  cross  of  Christ  with  a  holy  pride.  Only  thus  does  it 
become  to  us  a  tree  of  fife,  from  which  we  may  pluck  heavenly 
fruit.  Only  thus  does  it  serve  as  a  wondrous  weapon,  by  means 
of  winch  we  overcome  the  world,  death,  and  Satan. 


XL. 

THE  DAUGHTERS   OF   JERUSALEM. 

At  length,  to  alleviate  in  some  measure  the  oppression  of  our 
nearts,  a  trait  of  humanity  appears  in  the  exhibition  of  utter 
obduracy  and  cruelty  which  presents  itself  to  our  view,  on  the 
road  to  Mount  Calvary.  It  becomes  evident  that  even  beyond 
the  little  circle  of  his  disciples,  sympathy  for  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel  still  exists ;  for  even  tears  of  sorrow  flow  on  behalf  of  the 
sorely  tried  sufferer.     But  observe  that  these  manifestations  of 


THE   DAUGHTERS    OF   JERUSALEM.  345 

compassionate  feeling  afford  him  no  consolation,  on  the  contrary, 
be  is  induced  to  refuse,  and  even  reprove  them.  This  surprises 
and  astonishes  us ;  for  we  here  see  to  what  a  severe  sifting  the 
feelings  even  of  those  who  wish  well  to  the  Saviour,  are  sub- 
jected, and  how  much  Ave  may  be  in  danger  of  imagining  that 
we  love  him  with  that  love  which  forms  the  soul  of  the  new 
man,  while  we  are  still  wholly  destitute  of  it. 

The  road  which  leads  from  Jerusalem  to  Mount  Calvary  is 
crowded  with  people.  0  that  it  were  so  now  in  a  spiritual  and 
ecclesiastical  sense,  for  no  other  leads  to  life  and  salvation! 
Certainly,  those  whom  we  meet  with  there  are  not  such  as  sym- 
pathize with  Jesus  in  his  sufferings ;  on  the  contrary,  the  num- 
ber of  such  is  probably  very  small.  But  let  us  rather  meet  with 
decided  opponents  on  the  way  to  the  cross,  than  that  the  road  to 
it  should,  remain  solitary  and  waste.  Alas !  in  the  present  day, 
it  lies  very  desolate.  Crowds  are  seen  on  the  way  to  the  idol 
temples  of  the  world,  and  the  pavilions  of  the  lust  of  the  eye 
and  the  flesh.  But  how  few  there  are  whose  hearts  are  wont 
to  beat  louder  when  it  is  said  to  them,  "  The  passion-week  has 
returned,  and  we  are  again  preparing  for  our  pilgrimage  to  Cal- 
vary, where  the  foundations  of  our  eternal  redemption  are  laid." 
Numbers,  I  fear,  continue  to  fall  a  prey  to  spiritual  death. 
Few  of  them  succumb  under  acute  diseases ;  the  majority  die  of 
the  chlorosis  and  marasmus  of  complete  indifference.  With  them 
it  has  gradually  come  to  such  a  pass  that  even  that  which  is  the 
most  sublime  under  heaven  fatigues  them,  and  the  words,  "  Church, 
divine  service,  and  sermon,"  make  them  yawn.  Unhappy  mor- 
tals! They  know  not  that  in  these  characteristic  features  they 
already  bear  the  brandmarks  of  impending  judgment,  and  the 
signs,  if  not  of  rejection,  yet  of  the  capability  of  it.  Satan  even 
does  not  seem  to  think  these  people  worthy  of  an  energetic 
attack.  Like  dead  trees,  they  fall  to  him  of  themselves,  and  he 
finds  them  in  his  net  before  he  spreads  it. 

You,  my  readers,  do  not  belong  to  this  pitiable  race.  We 
still  meet  you  in  spirit  on  the  way  to  Calvary.  It  is  true 
this  is  the  way  to  heaven,  but  beware!  it  has  also  its  fissures 
and  pits  wliich  terminate  in  endless  deserts.  We  read  in  Luke, 
xxiii.  27,  that  a  great  multitude  of  people  followed  Jesus.     These 

15* 


346  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

were  by  no  neans  all  of  them  adversaries  and  bad  characters. 
Many  of  them  only  wished  to  see  what  would  become  of  him, 
and  therefore  took  at  least  a  historical  interest  in  his  person 
and  his  cause.  Know,  however,  that  this  does  not  suffice  to 
save  us.  Take  it  to  heart  that  your  situation  is  the  same  as 
that  of  these  people. 

We  meet  also,  in  the  present  day,  with  not  a  few,  and  their 
number  is  increasing,  who  have  directed  their  attention  to  relig- 
ion, the  Church,  and  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  as 
others  do  to  politics,  the  arts,  or  any  other  subject.  What  pro- 
gress Christianity  is  making  in  the  world — how  the  churches 
are  attended  in  such  and  such  a  place — what  this  or  that  society 
is  accomplishing — what  may  be  done  to  promote  public  worship 
— how  respect  for  the  Articles  of  Faith  is  to  be  increased — 
what  this  or  that  sect  believes  and  teaches — nay,  even  in  what 
sense  this  or  that  doctrine  is  to  be  apprehended,  and  the  best 
mode  of  expressing  it — these  are  the  objects  for  which  they 
interest  themselves,  after  which  they  inquire,  and  of  which  they 
love  to  speak.  .All  this  is  beautiful  and  praiseworthy;  but  it 
may  be  the  case  that  in  the  midst  of  the  Holy  Land,  in  which 
their  attention  is  engaged,  they  may  be  ripening  for  perdition 
equally  with  those  lamentable  beings  who  have  found  their  ele- 
ment in  the  steppes  of  extreme  indifference,  or  the  morasses  of 
frivolity. 

There  is  a  natural  feeling  for  divine  things  which  may  even 
become  very  active,  by  which  the  "  Old  Man"  is  not  in  the 
least  injured,  nor  the  game  of  the  prince  of  darkness  spoiled. 
How  this  feeling  may  even  extend  to  the  scenes  of  our  Saviour's 
passion  may  be  easily  conceived.  This  narrative  which,  with 
the  rich  varieties  of  its  scenes,  personalities,  and  characters, 
reflects  the  world,  how  should  it  not  be  able  to  exercise  an 
ttractive  influence,  where,  apart  from  every  feeling  of  religious 
necessity,  which  may  be  fast  asleep,  it  meets  with  a  suscepti- 
bility for  that  which  is  purely  human?  But  such  a  sympathy 
is  not  essentially  different  from  any  other,  and  has  nothing  in 
common  with  the  life  of  faith,  on  which  alone  the  eye  of  God  is 
fixed. 

Of  a  somewhat  nobler  nature  than  that  just  described,  is  the 


THE   DAUGHTERS    OF    JERUSALEM.  347 

interest  felt  by  those  whose  sympathy  with  the  history  and  cause 
of  Christ  is  excited  by  their  veneration  for  the  latter  as  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel.  Some  of  these  characters  were  also  among 
the  crowd  that  followed ;  and  we  do  not  unfrequently  meet,  in 
our  own  circles,  with  such  as  are  thus  of  a  more  refined  nature. 
Christ  presents  himself  to  their  admiring  gaze  as  the  perfect 
model  of  all  moral  human  greatness.  They  are  also  convinced 
that  Christ  must  be  formed  in  men,  and  become  all  in  all  to 
them,  if  the  golden  age  is  to  be  restored.  Nor  does  any  thing 
binder  them  from  celebrating,  with  lively  emotion,  the  Lord's 
ii,  while  magnanimously  irritated  against  the  reckless  race 
that  could  crucify  the  only  immaculate  one  that  ever  trod  the 
earth.  But  do  they  also  pray  with  us,  and  say,  "  0  Lamb  of 
God  that  takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  have  mercy  upon 
us  ?"  0  no !  This  never  occurs  to  them.  As  little  as  they 
have  any  idea  that  Christ,  to  whom,  as  "  the  flower  and  model 
of  mankind,"  they  gladly  give  all  honor,  could  have  been  any 
thing  more  than  this — so  little  do  they  dream,  that  from  man- 
kind something  further  is  required  in  order  to  be  saved,  than 
the  combined  efforts  of  their  own  moral  strength,  and  the  perse- 
vering energy  of  their  own  will  to  resemble  that  living  example. 
Hence  these  worthy  people  go  with  us,  indeed,  on  the  path  of 
the  Church,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  even  the  way  to  Calvary ; 
and  yet  it  is  beyond  a  doubt  that  they  are  entirely  deficient  in 
the  first  and  most  essential  requirements  of  true  inward  religion 
— a  contrite  heart,  and  a  living  faith  in  Christ  as  the  Mediator, 
and  equal  with  God.  Exasperated  against  the  murderers  of 
Jesus,  they  unconsciously  join  in  signing  the  sentence  of  death 
against  him.  For  since  they  refuse  to  rise  above  his  human 
nature,  they  stamp  him,  who  declared  on  oath  that  he  was  essen- 
tially one  with  the  Father,  as  a  blasphemer  who  was  worthy  of 
death.  While  reproaching  the  Pharisees,  they  are  in  reality  of 
the  same  mind  with  them ;  for  they  are  as  unwilling  as  tho 
latter  to  know  any  thing  of  a  Jesus,  who  treats  them  as  sinners, 
and  calls  upon  them  to  let  themselves  be  redeemed  by  him. 

The  women,  whom  we  see  following  the  Divine  Sufferer  with 
weeping  and  lamentation,  present  to  us  a  third  kind  of  relation 
to   Christ,    and   particularly   to   Christ    as   suffering.      Here   we 


348  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

seem  to  meet  with  the  true  kind  of  devotion  for  the  solemn  oc- 
casion. For  we  perceive  heartfelt  sympathy  with  the  Man  of 
Sorrows,  fervent  emotion  at  the  sight  of  his  cross,  nay,  even 
tears  wept  in  the  presence  of  the  reviling  adversaries  by  whom 
he  is  surrounded;  and  in  all  this  a  decided  confession  that  an 
innocent  man  is  being  conducted  to  the  place  of  execution,  who 
is  worthy  of  supreme  love  and  esteem,  instead  of  scorn  and 
hatred.  What  do  we  require  more  than  we  see  concentrated 
here  ?  Nor  does  the  Lord  omit  to  deign  attention  to  these 
sympathizing  witnesses  of  his  sufferings.  He  turns  to  them. 
For  what  purpose  ?  To  praise  and  console  them,  and  to  cheer 
and  strengthen  himself  at  the  sight  of  them?  By  no  means. 
The  Lord  Jesus  rejects  the  grief  of  the  mourners  as  mistaken, 
and  judges  their  tears  to  be  useless  and  unprofitable.  He  who, 
every  where,  and  even  in  the  deepest  sufferings,  was  able  to  pre- 
serve the  most  perfect  serenity  and  presence  of  mind,  and  never 
for  a  moment  lost  sight  of  pastoral  solicitude  for  the  lost  sheep 
of  the  house  of  Israel,  with  which  he  was  intrusted,  says  to  the 
weeping  women  who  followed  him,  "Daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves,  and  your  children." 

These  serious  words  deserve  to  be  taken  to  heart,  not  only  by 
the  women,  but  also  by  many  among  us.  They  reprove  all  those 
whose  devotion  for  the  cross  likewise  consists  in  a  mere  natural 
emotion,  excited  by  the  tragical  end  of  the  righteous  Jesus,  and 
who  have  nothing  else  but  tears  of  pity  and  sentimentality  for 
the  Saviour.  How  much  pleasing  emotion,  occasioned  by  a 
lively  representation  of  the  Eedeemer's  passion  in  musical 
oratorios,  ecclesiastical  solemnities,  or  liturgical  devotions,  is 
here  rejected !  It  is  scarcely  to  be  conceived  what  a  fullness  of 
impenitence  and  pharisaic  self-righteousness  may  be  concealed 
beneath  such  outbursts  of  feeling.  One  individual,  in  his  de- 
votions on  the  anniversary  of  the  passion,  is,  in  reality, 
affected  only  by  his  own  virtue.  He  thinks  the  world  loves  to 
defame  the  noble-minded,  and  that  it  knows  him  not,  even  as  it 
knew  not  the  Saviour  on  the  way  to  his  crucifixion ;  and  it  is 
this  which  affects  his  heart.  0  impious  pride  of  the  worthless 
sinner,  thus  to  compare  himself  with  the  Just  One  from  on 
high!     Another    says   to    himself,    "I    will    console    myself   in 


THE   DAUGHTERS    OF    JERUSALEM.  319 

my  misfortunes,  with  the  reflection  that  thou,  the  Matt  of 
Sorrows,  didst  not  walk  upon  roses,  but  didst  rise  from  the 
cross  to  the  crown;"  and  at  this  idea,  his  eyes  overflow.  O 
culpable  delusion,  as  if  he  suffered  guiltlessly,  like  Jesus,  and 
as  if  God  were  obliged  to  show  mercy  to  him  because  of  his 
sufferings ! 

A  third,  who  has  thousands  like  him,  ascribes  to  himself  the 
tears  of  sympathy,  which  the  sufferings  of  Christ  draw  from  him, 
as  a  species  of  righteousness,  and  exalts  them  as.  testimonials 
of  his  goodness  of  heart,  thus  making  them  a  ground  of  consola- 
tion and  hope.  0  lamentable  mistake !  "  Weep  not  for  me," 
says  our  Lord.  Do  you  hear  it?  He  forbids  the  lamenting 
and  condoling  with  him.  He  is  not  some  unfortunate  person  of 
a  common  kind.  He  does  not  succumb  to  any  superior  power, 
either  human,  or  the  force  of  oppressive  circumstances.  If  he 
pleased,  he  could  in  a  moment  stand  before  us  in  a  crown,  in- 
stead of  with  a  cross.  He  freely  gave  himself  up  to  his 
sufferings,  in  order  to  accomplish  that  which  his  Father  had 
given  him  to  do ;  and  the  idea  of  u  a  tragical  end,"  in  its  usual 
acceptation,  is  by  no  means  applicable  to  the  passion  of  our 
Lord.  The  tears  of  sentimentab'ty  and  pity  are  nowhere  so 
much  out  of  place  as  on  Calvary.  While  resigning  ourselves 
to  such  emotions,  we  mistake  the  Lord  Jesus — nay,  even  degrade 
him,  and  as  regards  ourselves,  miss  the  way  of  salvation  marked 
out  for  us  by  God.  Hence  the  Saviour  exclaims,  once  for  all, 
u  Weep  not  for  me !"  thus  placing  himself  entirely  out  of  the 
ranks  of  the  wretched  and  unfortunate  of  this  world. 

"  Do  tears,  therefore,  not  belong  to  our  devotions  on  this  solemn 
occasion?"  Doubtless  they  do;  but  their  object  must  be  a  dif- 
ferent one  to  the  person  of  the  Lord.  Hear  him  say  himself', 
f.Weep  not  for  me,  but  for  yourselves  and  your  children!" 
"Ourselves!"  you  exclaim.  Yes,  my  readers.  In  the  immo- 
lation of  Christ,  the  measure  of  the  world's  iniquities  was  full. 
It  was  sinful  from  Paradise  downward.  That  this  was  the 
case,  was  strikingly  evident  in  the  days  of  Noah,  Nimrod,  the 
judges   and  kings   of  Israel.      But   "The   1  Lou   of  the 

Amoritns  was  not  yet  full."  That  even  the  last  pretense  for 
excuse  and  lenieiv.y  might  disappear,  and  the  hatred  of  holiness, 


350  *  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

the  base  ingratitude  and  abominable  self-seeking  of  the  children 
of  Adam  might  be  manifested  still  more  evidently,  opportunity 
was  afforded  the  human  race  to  exhibit  its  real  and  inmost 
nature,  when  holiness  in  person  was  placed  in  contrast  with  it, 
and  the  Lord  God  poured  upon  it  the  fullness  of  Ms  compassion. 
Both  these  took  place  in  the  mission  of  Christ,  the  only-be- 
gotten Son,  the  good  Shepherd.  And  how  did  the  world  act  ? 
It  loved  darkness  rather  than  light;  was  filled  with  animosity 
against  him  who  came  to  redeem  it  from  sin ;  and  rejected  him 
who  hurt  its  pride  by  the  call  to  regeneration  and  conversion. 
It  nailed  to  the  cross  the  herald  and  bearer  of  the  grace  of  God. 

"  The  world  ?"  you  ask.  Yes,  the  world.  Only  look  a  little 
more  closely,  and  you  will  find  yourself  amid  the  crowd  whjch 
yonder  conducts  the  Lord  of  Glory  to  the  slaughter.  In  one 
or  other  of  those  individuals,  you  will  see  your  own  likeness. 
If  not  in  Judas,  yet  in  Annas;  if  not  in  Annas,  in  the  hypo- 
critical Caiaphas,  or  in  the  worldly-minded  Pilate,  or  else  in  one 
of  the  unprincipled  senators,  or  some  other  individual,  you  will 
somewhere  meet  with  the  mirror  which  reflects  your  own  moral 
form.  Look  around,  and  say  if  the  scenes  on  G-abbatha  and 
Calvary  are  not  incessantly  renewed?  If,  even  at  present,  a 
certain  degree  of  courage  is  not  required  openly  to  confess  the 
name  of  Jesus  ?  If  those  who  love  Christ  are  not  still  reviled 
as  pietists  and  hypocrites ;  and  if  those  who  wish  to  recommend 
the  Prince  of  Peace  to  others,  are  not  every  where  angrily  re- 
pulsed? Nay,  feel  in  your  own  bosom,  and  say  if  by  nature 
you  would  gladly  have  to  do  with  Jesus?  What  feelings  are 
excited  in  you,  when  he  places  you  among  publicans  and  male- 
factors, or  calls  upon  you  to  offer  up  to  him  your  mammon,  or 
some  other  idol?  Or  when  he  meets  you,  with  a  reproving 
gesture,  on  the  path  of  sensual  enjoyment,  and  requires  that  you 
should  live  to  God  and  not  to  the  world,  and  walk  in  God's 
ways  and  not  in  your  own ;  what  are  you  then  wont  to  feel  ? 
any  thing  else  than  disinclination,  repugnance,  displeasure,  and 
vexation  ?  Do  you  not  hear  of  any  thing  rather  than  of  him ; 
and  does  it  ever  occur  to  you  to  melt  in  gratitude  at  the 
Saviour's  feet,  when  you  hear  it  announced  that  "  God  so  loved 
the  world  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever 


THE   DAUGHTERS    OF   JERUSALEM.  351 

believeth  on  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life?" 
0  my  friends,  to  this  hour  Christ  appears  to  stand  among  us, 
only  that  by  his  presence  our  corruption  and  depravity  may  be 
the  more  conspicuous !  How  is  it,  then,  that  you  do  not  under- 
stand the  words,  "Weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves?" 
Truly,  all  appropriate  devotion,  at  this  sacred  season,  begins 
with  lamenting  over  ourselves,  and  judging,  condemning,  and 
acknowledging  ourselves  worthy  of  eternal  death. 

The  daughters  of  Jerusalem  hear  terrible  things  said  to  them, 
but  not  that  they  may  sink  into  hopeless  despair.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  here  the  love  that  seeketh  that  which  is  lost, 
which  speaks  to  them,  and  would  gladly  lead  them,  at  the 
proper  time,  to  repentance.  "  Weep  for  yourselves  and  your 
children."  This  is  an  unmistakable  allusion  to  the  dreadful 
malediction  which  the  infatuated  crowd  at  G-abbatha  called 
down  upon  themselves,  and  with  it,  the  indication  of  that  sin, 
which  was  principally  to  be  lamented  as  Israel's  chief  crime,  and 
consequently  as  the  chief  source  of  all  their  subsequent  misery. 

The  Lord  Jesus  says,  in  continuation,  "For  behold  the  days 
are  coming,  in  which  they  shall  say,  Blessed  are  the  barren,  and 
the  wombs  that  never  bare,  and  the  paps  which  never  gave 
suck."  What  an  announcement!  That  winch  was  previously 
mourned  over  in  Israel  as  a  great  misfortune,  and  an  equally 
great  disgrace — the  being  barren  and  childless — will  then  be 
commended  as  an  enviable  privilege. 

"Then,"  continues  our  Lord,  obviously  referring,  both  here 
and  previously,  to  passages  in  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah  and 
Hosea,  for  he  lived  in  his  Father's  word,  as  in  the  proper 
element  of  his  holy  soul — "  Then  shall  they  begin  to  say  to  the 
mountains,  Fall  on  us,  and  to  the  hills,  Cover  us."  The 
Saviour's  sphere  of  vision  evidently  extends  itself  here  beyond 
the*  terrible  days  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  His  words 
manifestly  generalize  themselves,  and  point  to  the  judgment  of 
the  last  day.  Those  who  will  then  be  found  rejecting,  through 
obstinate  unbelief  and  persevering  impenitence,  their  truest 
friend  and  only  Saviour,  will  find  themselves  in  a  position  in 
which  they  will  prefer  annihilation  to  a  continuance  of  exist- 
ence    They  will  call  upon  the  hills  to   crush  them  and  bury 


352  THE   HOLY   PLACE. 

them  forever  beneath  their  mass  of  ruins.  But  the  mountains 
stand  and  fall  at  God's  command,  and  he,  who  will  then  be 
their  enemy,  has  decreed  for  them  another  fate  than  that  of 
annihilation.  They  will  then  implore  the  rocks  to  hide  them 
from  the  face  of  the  angry  Judge ;  but  no  outlet  of  escape  will 
be  found  on  the  whole  earth  or  under  it,  which  will  remove 
them  from  the  searching  look  of  him,  "whose  eyes  are  as  a 
flame  of  fire."  What  a  horrible  prospect !  And  only  consider, 
that  he  who  thus  lifts  the  vail,  is  not  some  wild  zealot,  to  whose 
threats  no  great  importance  need  be  attached ;  but  it  is  he  who 
is  at  the  same  time  the  truth  and  loving-kindness  itself.  How 
does  this  strengthen  the  emphasis  of  that  address,  by  which  Ave 
are  called  to  repentance  in  a  more  powerful  and  impressive 
manner,  than  was  ever  before  heard  upon  earth. 

Our  Lord  concludes  his  speech  to  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem 
with  the  words,  "  For  if  they  do  these  things  in  the  green  tree, 
what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry?"  We  can  not  misunderstand 
these  words.  In  them  the  great  cross-bearer  represents  him- 
self as  a  mirror  of  the  wrath  of  God.  Since  he  is  the  Just 
One  and  the  Life,  he  calls  himself  "the  Green  Tree."  Glory 
and  happiness  became  him  individually,  and  not  suffering ;  yet 
he  endured  unparalleled  disgrace  and  torture.  But  that  which 
he  experiences,  must  be  of  the  same  nature  and  description  with 
that  which  is  threatened,  and  winch  awaits  the  ungodly.  Had 
it  been  otherwise,  the  inference  which  the  Lord  bids  us  draw 
from  his  sufferings,  with  regard  to  the  future  fate  of  the  impeni- 
tent sinner,  would  not  be  true,  and  the  comparison  he  makes 
inappropriate.  If  they  were  only  merciful  sufferings  which 
befell  the  Saviour,  how  could  they  serve  as  a  criterion  for  the 
future  lot  of  those  with  whom  divine  grace  had  nothing  more 
to  do  ?  But  Christ's  sufferings  were  vicariously  endured  punish- 
ments ;  and  his  words  have  now  a  meaning,  which  is  this :  "  I, 
the  Green  Tree,  bear  imputatively  only  the  sins  of  others ;  and 
the  thrice  holy  God  is  not  angry  with  me  personally.  Yet 
how  horrible  is  the  cup  winch  is  given  me  to  drink !  Judge 
from  this  what  will  eventually  be  the  fate  of  those,  who,  as  dry 
wood  and  unfruitful  trees,  will  have  to  suffer  for  their  own 
iniquities,  and  at  whose  judicial  visitation,  the  wrath  of  a  holy 


THE   DAUGHTERS    OF   JERUSALEM.  353 

God  will  by  no  means  conflict  with  his  love  and  tenderness." 
Therefore  let  us  not  overlook  the  danger  in  which  we  are,  so 
long  as  we  are  found  carnally-minded,  estranged  from  God,  and 
unthankful  despisers  of  the  delivering  grace  of  him,  whom  the 
Almighty  tore  from  his  paternal  bosom,  in  order  that  by  him 
he  might  deliver  us  unworthy  creatures  from  destruction,  and 
bring  us  back  to  himself.  Let  us  be  conscious  of  our  enormous 
guilt,  and  no  longer  delay,  with  the  holy  grief  of  a  publican 
or  a  Magdalen,  sincerely  and  heartily  to  weep  over  ourselves. 

It  is  thus,  I  repeat  it,  that  our  devotions  should  begin,*  when 
commencing  the  solemnities  of  the  passion-week.  But  should 
they  begin  with  it  only,  and  not  end  in  the  same  manner? 
Look  at  the  Saviour.  Why  does  he  travel  the  path  of  suffering  ? 
Because  he  intends  to  pay  our  debt,  and  blot  out  our  iniquities. 
Let  us  follow  him  in  spirit ;  for  how  much  are  we  interested  in 
this  his  passage  to  Calvary !  He  goes  to  nail  the  handwriting 
that  was  against  us  to  his  cross.  The  Green  Tree  gives  itself 
up  to  the  flames,  which  ought  to  consume  the  dry.  The  path 
he  treads  is  a  sacrificial  one,  a  path  of  satisfaction  and  mediation. 
Had  he  not  trodden  it,  we  should  have  been  the  heirs  of  eternal 
death,  or  else  the  throne  of  God  must  have  sunk  into  ruin,  and 
the  justice  of  God  would  have  degenerated  into  injustice.  But 
he  did  pass  through  it,  and  now  deliverance  is  secured,  however 
heinous  our  guilt.  Let  us  approach  his  cross  in  spite  of  Satan 
and  the  world,  open  before  him  the  tear-bedewed  pages  of  our 
book  of  transgressions,  implore  mercy  upon  our  knees,  lay  hold 
of  the  great  absolution  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  resign 
ourselves  entirely  and  unconditionally  to  the  thorn-crowned  King, 
that,  along  with  the  bands  of  the  curse,  he  may  also  loose  us 
from  those  of  the  world  and  the  flesh.  After  this  has  been  done, 
we  may  say  with  propriety,  that  we  have  celebrated  the  passion 
of  our  Lord. 

May  he  grant  us  all  such  a  celebration !  We  implore  it  the 
more  fervently  now  that  we  are  about  to  enter  the  Most  Holy 
Place  of  the  history  of  our  great  High  Priest's  sufferings.  Let 
us  prepare  ourselves  for  this  solemn  approach  by  calling  to 
mind  the  infinite  blessings  which  Christ  has  purchased  for  his 
people  by  his  death  on  the  cross,  and  by  loving  him,  who  thus 
loved  us,  and  gave  himself  for  us  1 


THE    MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 


XLI. 

THE    CRUCIFIXION. 

"  The  Lord  is  in  his  holy  temple ;  let  all  the  earth  keep  silence 
before  him."  Let  these  words  of  the  prophet  Habakkuk  be 
the  language  of  our  hearts  on  entering  into  the  Most  Holy  Place 
of  the  Gospel  history. 

The  most  solemn  of  all  days  in  Israel,  was,  as  we  well  know, 
the  great  day  of  atonement,  the  only  day  in  the  year  on  which 
the  high  priest  entered  into  the  most  holy  place  in  the  temple. 
Before  he  approached  that  mysterious  sanctuary,  the  law 
enjoined  that  he  should  divest  himself  of  his  costly  garments, 
and  clothe  himself  from  head  to  foot  in  a  plain  white  linen  dress. 
He  then  took  the  vessel  with  the  sacrificial  blood  in  his  hand, 
and,  thrilling  with  sacred  awe,  drew  back  the  vail,  in  order, 
humbly  and  devoutly,  to  approach  the  throne  of  grace,  and 
sprinkle  it  with  the  atoning  blood.  He  remained  no  longer  in 
the  sacred  place  than  sufficed  to  perform  his  priestly  office.  He 
then  came  out  again  to  the  people,  and,  in  Jehovah's  name, 
announced  grace  and  forgiveness  to  every  penitent  soul 

We  shall  now  see  this  symbolical  and  highly  significant  act 
realized  in  its  full  and  actual  accomplishment.  The  immaculate 
Jesus  of  whom  the  whole  Old  Testament  priesthood,  according 
to  the  divine  intention,  was  only  a  typical  shadow,  conceals 
himself  behind  the  thick  vail  of  an  increasing  humiliation  and 
agony;    that,    bearing    in  his    hands  his   own  blood,   he   may 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  355 

m 

mediate  f:r  us  with  God  his  Father.  Removed  from  the  sphere 
of  reason's  vision,  and  only  cognizable  by  the  exercise  of 
faith,  he  realizes  and  accomplishes  all  that  Moses  included  in 
the  figurative  service  of  the  tabernacle.  The  precise  manner 
in  which  this  was  accomplished,  we  shall  never  entirely  fathom 
with  our  intellectual  powers;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  then 
finally  procured  our  eternal  redemption.     ■ 

My  readers,  how  shall  we  best  prepare  ourselves  for  the  con- 
templation of  this  most  solemn  and  sacred  event  ?  At  least  we 
must  endeavor  to  do  so  by  holy  recollection  of  thought,  devout 
meditation,  a  believing  and  blissful  consideration  of  the  work 
of  .redemption,  and  by  heartfelt  and  grateful  adoration  before 
the  throne  of  God. 

May  we  be  enabled  thus  to  draw  near  by  the  help  of  his  grace 
and  mercy ! 

Once  more  we  return  to  the  road  to  the  cross,  and,  in  spirit, 
mingle  with  the  crowd  proceeding  to  the  place  of  execution. 
They  are  just  passing  the  rocky  sepulchers  of  the  kings  of  Israel.  < 
The  ancient  monarchs  sleep  in  their  cells,  but  a  dawning  resur- 
rection gleams  upon  their  withered  remains  when  the  Prince  of 
Life  passes  by.  The  procession  then  enters  the-  horrible  vale 
of  Gehenna,  which  once  reeked  with  the  blood  of  the  sacrifices 
to  Moloch.  But  there  is  another  still  more  dreadful  Gehenna; 
and  who  among  us  would  have  escaped  it,  had  not  the  Lamb 
of  God  submitted  to  the  sufferings,  which  we  now  see  him 
enduring  ? 

We  are  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  awful  hill,  but  before  ascend- 
ing it,  let  us  cast  a  look  on  the  crowd  behind  us,  and  see  if, 
amid  all  the  hatred  and  rancor  that  rages  there  like  an 
infernal  flame,  we  can  discover  any  traces  of  sympathy  and 
heartfelt  veneration  for  the  divine  '  sufferer.  And  lo !  an  esti- 
mable little  group  meets  our  eye,  like  a  benignant  constella- 
tion in  the  darkness  of  the  night.  0  we  know  them  already, 
these  deeply  distressed  mourners!  We  first  perceive  the  pious 
Salome,  the  blessed  mother  of  the  two  "  sons  of  thunder."  She 
desires  to  so.  her  children  an  example  of  faithfulness  unto  death, 
and  we  know  that  both  James  and  John,  the  former  of  whom 
was  the  first  martyr  for  the  new  kingdom   of  peace,  afterward 


356  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

showed  themselves  perfectly  worthy  of  such  a  mother.  Near 
Salome  walks  Mary,  the  near  relative  of  the  blessed  Virgin. 
She  had  also  the  great  privilege  of  seeing  her  two  sons,  James 
the  Less  and  Joses,  received  into  the  immediate  fellowship  of 
the  great  Master.  But  alas!  when  the  sword  came  upon  the 
Shepherd,  they  were  also  scattered  with  the  rest  of  the  flock; 
while  it  seemed  to  their  excellent  mother  a  paramount  duty  to 
appear,  instead  of  her  children,  and  by  her  own  fidelity,  to 
cover  their  flight  And  lo !  yonder  walks  Mary  Magdalene, 
sobbing  aloud,  who  had  experienced,  above  others,  the  delivering 
power  of  him,  who  came  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil.  0 
how  she  appears  dissolved  in  grief  and  sorrow !  She  has  only 
one  wish  more,  and  that  is,  to  be  able  to  die  with  him,  without 
whom  the  earth  seems  to  her  only  a  gloomy  grave,  a  den  of 
murderers. 

But  who  is  she  with  tottering  step,  leaning  on  the  disciple 
whom  Jesus  loved,  dejected  more  than  all  the  rest,  who 
covers  her  grief-worn  face?  It  is  the  sorely  tried  mother 
of  our  Lord,  in  whom  Simeon's  prophecy  is  now  fulfilled, 
"A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thine  own  soul  also."  But 
she  had  scarcely  the  smallest  presentiment  that  it  would  be 
accomplished  in  such  a  manner.  Truly,  what  she'  feels,  no  heart 
on  earth  ever  experienced.  But  look  up,  Mary!  Cast  thyself, 
with  all  thy  grief,  into  the  arms  of  the  Eternal  Father.  Dost 
thou  see  thy  son  going  to  be  crucified  ?  He  also  sees  his.  He 
who  is  crowned  with  thorns  is  his  Son  as  well  as  thine.  0  look 
at  the  dear  disciple,  who  though  inconsolable  himself,  tries  to 
support  the  deeply  grieved  mother  of  his  Lord.  What  a  scene  ! 
But  how  gratifying  is  it  to  perceive,  that  love  for  the  Man  of 
Sorrows  has  not  wholly  become  extinct  upon  earth !  Nor  shall 
it  ever  expire.  Be  not  concerned  on  that  account.  In  that 
mourning  group  you  see  only  the  first  divinely-quickened  germs 
of  the  future  kingdom  of  the  Divine  Sufferer.  From  a  few,  a 
multitude  that  no  man  can  number  will  ere  long  proceed. 

After  this  cursory  retrospect  of  the  Saviour's  attendants,  let 
us  again  put  ourselves  in  motion  with  the  crowd.  Only  a  few 
steps  upward,  and  we  reach  the  end  of  the  dreadful  pilgrimage. 
Where  are  we  now  ?    We  are  standing  on  the  summit  of  Mount 


THE  CRUCIFIXION.  357 

Calvary — Golgotha — horrifying  name — the  appellation  of  the 
most  momentous  and  awful  spot  upon  the  whole  earth.  Behold 
a  naked  and  barren  eminence,  enriched  only  by  the  blood  of 
criminals,  and  covered  with  the  bones  of  executed  rebels,  incen- 
diaries, poisoners,  and  other  offscourings  of  the  human  race. 
An  accursed  spot,  where  love  never  rules,  but  where  naked 
justice  alone  sits  enthroned,  with  scales  and  sword,  and  from 
which*  every  passer-by  turns  with  abhorrence,  a  nocturnal 
rendezvous  of  jackalls  and  hyenas.  Only  think,  this  place  so 
full  of  horrors,  becomes  transformed  into  "  the  hill  from  whence 
cometh  our  help,"  and  whose  mysteries  many  kings  and  prophets 
have  desired  to  see,  and  did  not  see  them.  Yes,  upon  this 
awful  hill  our  roses  shall  blossom,  and  our  springs  of  peace  and 
salvation  burst  forth.  The  pillar  of  our  refuge  towers  upon  this 
height.  The  Bethany  of  our  repose  and  eternal  refreshment 
here  displays  itself  to  our  view.  Truly  the  ancients  were  in  so 
far  correct  in  their  assertion,  that  Mount  Calvary  formed  the 
center  of  the  whole  earth ;  for  it  is  the  meeting-place  where  the 
redeemed,  though  separated  in  body  by  land  and  sea,  daily 
assemble  in  spirit,  and  greet  each  other  with  the  kiss  of  love. 
Not  less  correct  were  they  in  the  legend  that  Father  Adam  was 
buried  beneath  Mount  Calvary — this  hill  being  really  Adam's 
grave,  when  by  the  latter  we  understand  the  fallen  sinful  man, 
whom  we  all  carry  about  in  us,  and  who  was  crucified  with 
Christ  on  Golgotha.  It  is  strange  that  to  this  day  the  learned 
dispute  the  position  of  this  hill,  and  that  there  is  scarcely  a 
prospect  of  ascertaining  the  place  with  certainty.  But  it  was 
the  divine  intention  that  the  material  mount  should  be  exalted 
into  the  region  of  that  which  is  spiritual;  and  such  is  actually 
the  case.  It  finds  its  abiding-place  in  the  believing  view  of  the 
world. 

On  that  awful  mount  ends  the  earthly  career  of  the  Lord  of 
Glory.  Behold  him,  then,  the  only  green,  sound,  and  fruitful 
tree  upon  earth,  and  at  the  root  of  this  tree  the  ax  is  laid. 
What  a  testimony  against  the  world,  and  what  an  annihilating 
contradiction  to  every  thing  that  bears  the  name  of  God  and 
Divine  Providence,  if  the  latter  did  not  find  its  solution  in  the 
mystery  of  the  representative  atonement  I      Behold  him,  then, 


358  THE   MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

covered  with  wounds  and  ignominy,  and  scarcely  distinguishable 
from  the  malefactors  among  whom  he  is  reckoned.  But  have 
patience.  In  a  few  years,  Jerusalem,  that  rejected  him,  glori- 
fies him  in  the  form  of  a  smoking  heap  of  ruins,  as  the  beloved 
Son  of  the  Most  High,  whom  no  one  can  assail  with  impunity ; 
and  surrounded  by  the  lights  of  the  sanctuary,  living  monuments 
arise,  in  three  quarters  of  the  globe,  bearing  the  inscription,  "  To 
Christ,  the  Redeemer  of  the  world."  But  before  these  things 
take  place,  a  horrible  catastrophe  must  occur.  The  life  of  the 
world  only  springs  forth  from  the  death  of  the  Just  One.  The 
hour  of  his  baptism  with  blood  has  arrived.  Collect  your 
thoughts,  my  readers,  while  you  witness  it. 

Alas!  alas!  what  is  it  that  now  takes  place  on  that  bloody 
hill  ?  0  heart  of  stone  in  our  breasts,  why  dost  thou  not  break  ? 
Why,  thou  cold  and  obdurate  rock,  dost  thou  not  dissolve  in 
tears  of  blood  ?  Four  barbarous  men,  inured  to  the  most  dread- 
ful of  all  employments,  approach  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and 
offer  him,  first  of  all,  a  stupifying  potion,  composed  of  wine  and 
myrrh,  as  usual  at  executions.  The  Lord  disdains  the  draught, 
because  he  desires  to  submit  to  the  will  of  his  heavenly  Father 
with  full  consciousness,  and  to  drink  the  last  drop  of  the  accursed 
cup.  The  executioners  then  take  the  Lamb  of  God  between 
them,  and  begin  their  horrid  occupation  by  tearing,  with  rude 
hands,  the  clothes  from  off  his  body.  There  he  stands,  whose 
garment  once  was  the  light,  and  the  stars  of  heaven  the  fringe 
of  his  robe,  covered  only  with  the  crimson  of  his  blood,  and 
divested  of  all  that  adorned  him,  not  only  before  men,  but  also, 
in  his  character  as  Surety,  before  God — reminding  us  of  Adam 
in  paradise,  only  that  instead  of  hiding  himself  behind  the  trees 
at  the  voice  of  God,  he  cheerfully  goes  toward  it;  reminding  us 
.also  of  the  Old  Testament  high  priest,  his  mysterious  type,  who, 
before  he  entered  into  the  Most  Holy  place  to  make  an  atone- 
ment, exchanged  his  rich  attire  for  a  simple  white  robe. 

After  having  unclothed  the  Lord,  and  left  him,  by  divine 
direction,  only  his  crown  of  thorns,  they  lay  him  down  on  the 
wood  on  which  he  is  to  bleed ;  and  thus,  without  being  aware 
of  it,  bring  about  the  moment  predicted  in  Psalm  xxii.,  where 
we  hear  the  Messiah  complaining,  and  saying,  "  Be  not  far  from 


THE   CRUCIFIXION.  359 

me,  for  trouble  is  near ;  for  there  is  none  to  help.  Many  bulls 
have  compassed  me  about ;  strong  bulls  of  Bashan  have  beset 
me  round."  0  what  a  dying  bed  for  the  King  of  kings!  My 
friends,  as  often  as  we  repose  on  the  downy  cushions  of  divine 
peace,  or  blissfully  assemble  in  social  brotherly  circles,  singing 
Hymns  of  hope,  let  us  not  forget  that  the  cause  of  the  happiness 
we  enjoy  is  solely  to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  the  Lord  of  Glory 
once  extended  himself  on  the  fatal  tree  for  us. 

0  see  him  lie !  His  holy  arms  forcibly  stretched  out  upon 
the  cross-beam ;  his  feet  laid  upon  each  other  and  bound  with 
cords.  Thus  Isaac  once  lay  on  the  wood  on  Mount  Moriah. 
But  the  voice  that  then  called  out  of  heaven,  saying,  "  Lay  not 
thine  hand  upon  the  lad !"  is  silent  on  Calvary.  The  execu- 
tioners seize  the  hammer  and  nails.  But  who  can  bear  to  look 
upon  what  further  occurs!  A  deep  and  anxious  silence  per- 
vades the  crowd,  like  that  which  is  wont  to  fill  the  house  of 
mourning  when  the  coffin  is  nailed  down.  And,  probably,  not 
only  on  earth,  but  also  in  heaven  at  that  moment,  profound 
and  solemn  silence  reigned.  The  horrible  nails  from  the  forge 
of  hell,  yet  foreseen  in  the  sanctuary  of  eternity,  are  placed  on 
the  hands  and  feet  of  the  righteous  Jesus,  and  the  heavy  strokes 
of  the  hammer  fall.  Reader  dost  thou  hear  the  sound  ?  They 
thunder  on  thy  heart,  testifying  in  horriDle  language  of  thy  sin, 
and  at  the  same  time  of  the  wrath  of  Almighty  God.  0  how 
many  sleepers  have  awoke  from  their  sleep  of  death  under  the 
echo  of  those  strokes,  and  have  escaped  from  Satan's  snare! 
Awake  also  thou  that  art  asleep  in  sin,  and  rouse  thyself  likewise 
thou  who  art  lulling  thyself  in  carnal  security!  How  many  a 
proud  and  haughty  heart  has  been  broken  into  salutary  repent- 
ance by  those  strokes !  0  why  does  not  thy  heart  also  break  ? 
For  know,  that  thou  didst  aid  in  swinging  those  hammers;  and 
that  the  most  crying  and  impious  act  which  the  world  ever  com- 
mitted, is  charged  to  thy  account. 

See,  the  nails  have  penetrated  through,  and  from  both  hands 
and  feet  gushes  forth  the  blood  of  the  Holy  One.  0  these  nails 
have  rent  the  rock  of  salvation  for  us,  that  it  may  pour  forth  the 
water  of  life ;  have  reft  the  heavenly  bush  of  balm,  +*hat  it  may 
send  forth  its  perfume.     Yes,  they  have  pierced  the  hand-writ- 


360  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

ing  that  was  against  us,  and  have  nailed  it,  as  invalid,  to  the 
tree;  and  by  wounding  the  Just  One,  have  penetrated  through 
the  head  of  the  old  serpent,  like  Jael's  nail  through-  the  head  of 
Sisera.  0  let  no  one  be  deceived  with  respect  to  him  who  was 
thus  nailed  to  the  cross  !  Those  pierced  hands  bless  more  power- 
fully than  while  they  moved  freely  and  unfettered.  They  are 
the  hands  of  a  wonderful  architect,  who  is  building  the  frame  of 
an  eternal  Church — yea,  they  are  the  hands  of  a  hero,  which 
take  from  the  strong  man  all  his  spoil.  And  believe  me,  there 
is  no  help  or  salvation,  save  in  these  hands ;  and  these  bleeding 
feet  tread  more  powerfully  than  when  no  fetters  restrained  their 
steps.  They  now  walk  victoriously  over  the  heads  of  thousands 
of  foes,  who  shortly  before  held  up  their  heads  with  boldness. 
Hills  and  mountains  flow  down  beneath  their  steps,  which  they 
never  would  have  leveled  unwounded;  and  nothing  springs  or 
blooms  in  the  world,  except  beneath  the  prints  of  these  feet. 

The  most  dreadful  deed  is  done,  and  the  prophetic  words  of 
the  Psalm,  "  They  pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet,"  have  received 
their  fulfillment.  The  foot  of  the  cross  is  then  brought  near  to 
the  hole  dug  for  it ;  powerful  men  seize  the  rope  attached  to  the 
top  of  it,  and  begin  to  draw,  and  the  cross,  with  its  victim,  ele- 
vates itself  and  rises  to  its  height.  Thus  the  earth  rejects  the 
Prince  of  Life  from  its  surface,  and,  as  it  seems,  heaven  also  refuses 
him.  But  we  will  let  the  curtain  drop  over  these  horrors.  Thank 
God !  in  that  scene  of  suffering  the  Sun  of  Grace ,  rises  over  a 
sinful  world,  and  the  Lion  of  Judah  only  ascends  into  the  region 
of  the  spirits  that  have  the  power  of  the  air,  in  order,  in  a  myste- 
rious conflict,  eternally  to  disarm  them  on  our  behalf. 

Look  what  a  spectacle  now  presents  itself!  The  moment  the 
cross  is  elevated  to  its  height,  a  purple  stream  foils  from  the 
wounds  of  the  crucified  Jesus  through  the  air,  and  bedews  the 
place  of  torture,  and  the  sinful  crowd  which  surrounds  it.  This 
is  his  legacy  to  his  Church.  We  render  him  thanks  for  such  a 
bequest.  This  rosy  dew  works  wonders.  It  falls  upon  spiritual 
deserts,  and  they  blossom  as  the  rose.  We  sprinkle  it  upon  the 
door-posts  of  our  hearts,  and  are  secure  against  destroyers  and 
avenging' angels.  This  dew  falls  on  the  ice  of  the  north  pole, 
and  the  accumulated  frozen  mass  of  ages  thaws  beneath  it.     It 


THE   CRUCIFIXION".  361 

streams  down  on  the  torrid  zone,  and  the  air  becomes  cool  and 
pleasant.  Where  this  rain  falls,  the  gardens  of  God  spring  up, 
lilies  bloom,  and  what  was  black  becomes  white  in  the  purifying 
stream,  and  what  was  polluted  becomes  pure  as  the  light  of  the 
sun.  That  which  dew  and  rain  is  to  nature,  which  without  them 
would  soon  become  a  barren  waste,  the  crimson  shower  which 
we  see  falling  from  the  cross  is  to  human  minds.  There  is  no 
possibility  of  flourishing  without  it,  no  growth  nor  verdure,  but 
every  where  desolation,  barrenness,  and  death.  Let  us  therefore 
embrace  the  cross,  and  sing  with  the  poet : 

"  Here  at  thy  cross,  ray  dying  God, 
I  lay  my  soul  beneath  thy  love, 
Beneath  the  droppings  of  thy  blood, 
Jesus,  nor  shall  it  e'er  remove  1" 

There  stands  the  mysterious  cross — a  rock  against  which  the 
very  waves  of  the  curse  break,  a  lightning-conductor,  by  winch 
the  destroying  fluid  descends,  which  would  otherwise  have 
crushed  the  world.  He  who  so  mercifully  engaged  to  direct 
this  thunderbolt  against  himself,  hangs  yonder  in  profound  dark- 
ness. Still  he  remains  the  Morning  .Star,  announcing  an  eternal 
Sabbath  to  the  world.  Though  rejected  by  heaven  and  earth, 
yet  he  forms,  as  such,  the  connecting  link  between  them  both, 
and  the  Mediator  of  their  eternal  and  renewed  amity.  Ah  see ! 
his  bleeding  arms  are  extended  wide ;  he  stretches  them  out  to 
every  sinner.  His  hands  point  to  the  east  and  west;  for  he 
shall  gather  his  children  from  the  ends  of  the  earth.  The  top  of 
the  cross  is  directed  toward  the  sky ;  far  above  the  world  will 
its  effects  extend.  Its  foot  is  fixed  in  the  earth ;  the  cross  be- 
comes a  wondrous  tree,  from  which  we  reap  the  fruit  of  an 
eternal  reconciliation.  0  my  readers,  nothing  more  is  requisite, 
1han  that  the  Lord  should  grant  us  penitential  tears,  and  then, 
by  means  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  show  us  the  Saviour  suffering  on 
the  cross.  We  then  escape  from  all  earthly  care  and  sorrow, 
and  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  For  our  justification 
in  his  sight,  nothing  more  is  requisite  than  that,  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  our  utter  helplessness,  wp  lay  hold  on  the  horns  of  that 

16 


362  THE    MOST    HOLY   PLACE. 

altar,  which  is  sprinkled  with  the  blood  that  "  speaketh  better 
things  than  that  of  Abel."  And  the  Man  of  Sorrows  displays 
to  us  the  fullness  of  his  treasures,  and  bestows  upjn  us,  in  a 
superabundant  degree,  the  blessing  of  the  patriarch  Jacob  on  his 
son  Joseph : — "  The  blessings  of  thy  father  have  prevailed  above 
the  blessings  of  my  progenitors  unto  the  utmost  bound  of  the 
everlasting  hills." 

There  stands  erected  the  standard  of  the  new  covenant,  which, 
when  it  is  understood,  spreads  terror'  around  it  no  less  than 
delight,  and  produces  lamentation  no  less  than  joy  and  rejoic- 
ing. It  stands  to  this  day,  and  will  stand  forever,  and  no 
more  fears  those  who  would  overturn  it  than  the  staff  of 
Moses  feared  when  those  of  the  magicians  hissed  around  it. 
And  wherever  it  is  displayed,  there  it  is  surrounded  by  powerful 
manifestations  and  miraculous  effects.  We  carry  it  through 
the  nations,  and  without  a  blow  of  the  sword,  conquer  one 
country  after  another,  and  one  fortress  after  another.  Look 
how  the  missionary  fields  become  verdant,  and  a  spring-time  of 
the  Spirit  extends  itself  over  the  heathen  deserts!  Hark  how 
the  harps  of  peace  resound  from  the  isles  of  the  sea ;  and  behold 
how,  between  the  icebergs  of  the  north,  the  hearts  begin  to 
glow  with  the  fire  of  divine  love !  From  whence  these  changes  ? 
these  resurrection- wonders  ?  From  whence  this  shaking  in  the 
valley  of  dry  bones?  The  cross  is  carried  through  the  land, 
and  beneath  its  shade  the  soil  becomes  verdant  and  the  dead 
revive.  When  this  wondrous  cross  is  exhibited,  with  a  correct 
exposition  of  its  hieroglyphic  characters,  "lightnings,  thunder- 
ings,  and  voices,"  are  wont  to  proceed.  Stones  melt  in  its 
vicinity,  rocks  rend  before  it,  and  waters,  long  stagnant,  again 
ripple,  clear  and  pure,  as  if  some  healing  angel  had  descended 
into  them. 

"I  am  crucified  with  Christ,"  exclaims  the  apostle,  and  by 
these  words  points  out  the  entire  fruit  which  the  cross  bears  for 
all  believers.  His  meaning  is,  "  They  are  not  Ins  sins,  for  winch 
the  curse  is  there  endured,  but  mine;  for  he  who  thus  expires 
on  the  cross,  dies  for  me.  (jurist  pays  and  suffers  in  my  stead." 
But  that  of  which  Paul  boasts,  is  the  property  of  us  all,  if  by 
the  living  bond  of  faith  and  love,  we  are  become  one  with  the 


THE    DIVIDING    C'F   THE    RAIMENT.  3G3 

crucified  Jesus.  We  are  likewise  exalted  to  fellowship  with 
the  cross  of  Christ  in  the  sense  also  that  our  corrupt  nature  is 
condemned  to  death,  and  our  old  man,  with  his  affections  and 
lusts,  is  subjected  to  the  bitter  process  of  a  lingering  death, 
partly  through  the  spirit  of  purity  which  dwells  and  rules 
within  us,  and  partly  by  the  trials  and  humiliations  which 
God  sends  us,  until  the  lance-wound  of  the  death  of  the  body 
makes  an  end  of  it.  But  it  is  while  enduring  these  mortal 
agonies,  that  we  first  see  the  cross  of  Calvary  unfold  its  full  and 
peace-bestowing  radiance.  It  arches  itself,  like  a  rainbow,  over 
our  darkness,  and  precedes  us  on  our  path  of  sorrow  like  a 
pillar  of  fire.  0  that  its  serene  light  might  also  shine  upon  our 
path  through  this  vale  of  tears,  and  as  the  tree  of  liberty  and 
of  life,  strike  deep  its  roots  in  our  souls!  Apprehended  by 
faith,  may  it  shed  its  heavenly  fruit  into  our  lap,  and  warm  and 
expand  our  hearts  and  minds  beneath  its  shade ! 


XLII. 

THE    DIVIDING    OF    THE    RAIMENT. 

The  scene  we  are  about  to  contemplate,  is  remarkable  even  for 
those  who  are  either  unable  or  unwilling  to  share  in  our  belief. 
It  represents  the  taking  possession  of  an  inheritance,  in  which 
— at  least  in  some  respects — we  ourselves  are  nearly  interested. 
A  dying  bed  presents  itself  to  our  view — an  individual  at  the 
point  of  death — a  legacy,  and  the  heirs.  Happy  is  ho  who  is 
justified  in  numbering  himself  with  the  latter!  Let  us  approach 
near,  and  direct  our  attention,  first,  to  the  testator,  and  then  to 
his  legacy  and  heirs. 

A  testator,  as  you  are  aware,  is  one  who  bequeaths  an  in- 
heritance. We  find  such  a  one  in  that  part  of  the  Gospel 
narrative  winch  we  are  about  to  consider.  The  place  where  we 
meet  with  him  is  indeed  the  last  where  we  <  ught  to  seek  him. 
We    are    standing    on   the   summit   of   Mount    Calvary.      The 


364  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

company  by  whom  we  are  surrounded,  are  certainly,  in  part,  of 
high  rank — senators,  priests,  and  centurions  meet  our  view. 
We  might  suppose,  that  if  there  was  a  testator  here,  he  could  be 
found  only  among  these  dignitaries.  But  such  is  not  the  case. 
Look  up,  and  behold  the  bleeding  man  upon  the  accursed  tree 
between  two  companions  in  suffering.  No,  he  that  dies  like 
this  severely  smitten  man,  does  not  die  well;  and  we  are  in- 
clined to  exclaim,  "Let  not  our  end  be  like  the  end  of  this 
sufferer !"  0  horror  beyond  degree !  Dreadful  are  the  terrors 
which  you  here  behold;  but  what  are  they  compared  with 
those  agonies  which  he  endures  behind*  the  vail  of  that  which  is 
visible  to  the  eye  ?  Oh,  what  a  way  of  leaving  the  world  !  A 
host  of  scoffing  demons  surrounds  his  dying  bed ;  the  curse  of  the 
law  is  the  coverlet  over  him ;  the  atmosphere  he  breathes  glows 
with  fiery  indignation ;  his  last  draught,  the  distress  and  agony 
of  a  reprobate ;  the  parting  hymn  sung  to  him,  Satanic  scoff  and 
scorn;  his  only  refuge,  Ins  Father's  hidden  countenance,  which 
no  longer  deigns  him  a  perceptible  glance  of  affection ;  his 
prospect,  a  death  over  winch  Satan  has  power,  and  that  which 
closes  his  eyes — not  an  angel  with  a  palm  branch,  but  the  gloomy 
king  of  terrors.  Comprehend  all  this  in  one  view,  and  what 
will  you  say  to  it?  Doubtless,  that  this  is  real  degradation, 
misery,  distress  and  pressure,  and  is  death  in  the  most  complete 
and  horrible  sense  of  the  word. 

But  how  will  you  be  astonished,  when  I  inform  you  that  this 
man,  the  poorest  of  the  poor,  is  the  very  one  whom  we  went 
forth  to  seek.  "  What !"  you  exclaim,  "  not  the  Testator  ?" 
Yes,  my  readers,  incomprehensible  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  he  and 
no  other.  Look  at  the  inscription  over  his  head,  Pilate  caused 
it  to  be  written ;  but,  believe  me,  that  God  has  had  his  hand  in 
it,  however  seemingly  it  may  stand  in  contradiction  with  the 
bleeding  form  to  which  it  has  reference.  It  is  no  bitter 
scoff,  but  actual  truth:  "Jesus  of  Nazareth  the  King  of  the 
Jews." 

u  What !"  you  exclaim  again,  "  that  wretched  man  a 
King?"  0,  my  friends,  and  something  still  more  and  greater 
than  that !  The  line.s  there  do  not  say  enough.  We  will  strike 
them  out,  and  put  in  their  place  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King 


. 


THE   DIVIDING   OP   THE   RAIMENT.  365 


kings."  But  even  tins  title  is  too  vague.  Let  us  place 
another  in  its  stead:  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Son  of  the  living 
God."  Nor  does  this  title  satisfy  us.  We  blot  it  out  and 
write,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  first  and 
the  last,  the  creator  and  preserver  of  all  things,  God  blessed  for- 
ever." This  epitaph  may  remain,  for  the  description  is  most 
firmly  and  irrefutably  founded.  It  was  he,  it  is  he,  even 
amid  the  horrors  of  such  a  death;  all  things  are  his,  heaven 
and  earth,  the  bliss  of  paradise  and  the  trees  of  life  by  the  river 
of  the  city  of  God,  and  the  crown  of  honor  on  its  pillars.  But 
that  which  he  possessed  from  the  beginning,  he  possessed  only 
for  himself,  or  at  most,  only  in  part  for  the  holy  angels  that  had 
remained  faithful.  Not  the  least  glimmer  of  his  glory  could  he 
bestow  upon  us,  sinners,  without  trenching  upon  his  honor  and 
majesty.  Divine  justice,  which  necessarily  condemned  us,  de- 
cidedly protested  against  every  impartation  of  the  kind ;  likewise, 
his  divine  holiness,  which  blesses  only  those  who  are  free  from 
sin;  and  divine  truth,  which  never  employs  empty  words,  nor 
utters  threats  which  it  does  not  verify  by  the  deed. 

Now,  if  the  rich  Lord  of  heaven  was  nevertheless  desirous  of 
bequeathing  some  part  of  Ins  property  to  us,  it  was  first  of  all  ne- 
cessary that  he  should  satisfy  these  exalted  opponents  of  our  fallen 
race,  in  a  holy  and  divinely  appointed  way.  And  to  tins  he 
agreed,  when  he  undertook  to  yield,  in  our  stead,  that  obedience 
which  we  owed,  and  to  endure,  in  his  own  person,  the  curse 
inflicted  upon  us.  And  both  these  he  accomplished  at  the 
horrible  moment  in  which  we  now  find  him ;  and  by  his  vicari- 
ous endurance  of  our  misery,  he  builds  a  bridge  for  us,  unhappy 
mortals,  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  reach  his  own  felicity. 
But  because,  by  his  rendering  tins  satisfaction,  he  acquires  the 
power  to  receive  us  sinners  into  the  fellowship  of  his  blessed- 
ness, we  shall  do  well  to  remove  the  inscriptions  we  have  just 
attached  to  his  cross,  however  well  founded  they  may  be,  and 
le&ve  the  first  and  original  one,  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King 
of  the  Jews."  It  is  the  most  characteristic  in  its  place;  for 
why  did  the  Lord  suffer  and  die,  but  because  he  was  not  merely 
the  Son  of  the  living  God,  and  regent  of  the  world  and  those 
upon  it;  but  also  because  he  became  the  king  and  the   bead- 


366  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

fying  Prince  of  Peace  of  a  spiritual  Israel,  gathered  from  among 
sinners. 

We  are  now  acquainted  with  the  great  Testator — the  man 
who  is  bleeding  on  the  cross.  And  it  is  because  he  hangs  there 
that  he  acquires  the  power  to  restore  the  justly  disinherited 
children  of  Adam  to  their  lost  possessions.  But  in  what  does 
the  legacy  consist  ?  Its  noblest  part  will  be  seen  in  that  portion 
of  the  narrative  we  are  about  to  consider.  In  it  a  jewel  glitters, 
with  which  is  combined  the  pledge,  that  no  good  thing  will  be 
withheld  from  us.  Prom  the  summit  of  the  cross  cast  your 
eyes  down  to  its  foot.  Four  assistant  executioners  are  seen 
cowering  down  together,  busily  engaged  in  a  peculiar  manner. 
They  inherit  all  that  the  man  possessed  whom  they  have  nailed 
to  the  cross — his  clothing.  They  are  occupied  in  parting  the 
wide  upper  garment,  and  dividing  it  among  them.  But  on 
more  closely  examining  the  underclothing,  they  see  in  it  a 
singular  piece  of  art,  for  the  dress  is  without  a  seam,  woven 
entirely  in  one  piece.  This  vesture,  they  think,  ought  not  to  be 
cut ; .  and  hence  they  agreed  to  cast  lots  for  it.  They  do  so,  and 
he  who  is  so  fortunate  as  to  win,  becomes  the  possessor  of  the 
whole  garment. 

Scrutinize  narrowly  this  gambling  group  beneath  the  cross; 
for  what  they  are  doing  is  extremely  significant.  At  first  sight 
we  would  suppose  that  tins  was  far  from  being  the  case ;  but 
the  fact  that  the  whole  of  the  four  evangelists,  including  the 
beloved  disciple,  mention,  on  the  dictate  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  this 
division  of  the  raiment,  is  a  pledge  to  us  of  its  symbolical  im- 
portance and  divine  meaning.  Besides  this,  the  executioners, 
without  any  idea  of  it,  are  fulfilling,  by  their  division  of  the 
garments,  and  their  casting  the  lot  for  the  unseamed  vesture,  a 
Scriptural  prophecy  of  almost  a  thousand  years  old.  We  read 
that  "this  was  done  that  the  Scripture  might  be  fulfilled,"  and 
you  know  that  it  is  the  twenty-second  Psalm  which  is  here 
referred  to.  In  that  sacred  song,  which  may  be  regarded  as  a 
prophetic  effusion  of  the  suffering  Lamb  of  God,  the  Kedeemer 
utters  beforehand  by  the  mouth  of  David,  the  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings by  which  he  would  subsequently  be  affected  during  his 
crucifixion.      It  is  there  said,  "Dogs  have  compassed  me,  the 


THE   DIVIDING   OF   THE   RAIMENT.  367 

assembly  of  the  wicked  have  inclosed  me.  They  pierced  my 
hands  and  my  feet;  I  may  tell  all  my  bones,  they  look  and 
stare  upon  me."  Then  follow  the  words,  "They  part  my  gar- 
ments among  them,  and  cast  lots  for  my  vesture." 

"What  do  you  say  to  this  passage  ?  Must  not  expressions  of 
this  kind  from  the  spirit  of  prophecy  surprise  and  astonish  even 
the  most  unbelieving?  David  could  not  have  uttered  these 
words  with  reference  to  himself.  The  description  only  suits  the 
sufferer,  in  whose  life  we  now  see  it  actually  interwoven.  He 
who  bleeds  on  Calvary  is  therefore  the  mysterious  individual 
who  announces  himself  in  the  Psalm  above  mentioned  as  the 
Eedeemer  of  the  world.  But  while  it  adds  great  importance  to 
the  trivial  act  of  the  division  of  the  raiment,  by  making  known 
the  Lord  Jesus  as  the  true  Messiah,  we  shall  find  that  something 
of  a  still  more  momentous  nature  is  included  in  the  passage  above 
quoted. 

We  must  first  inquire  for  what  reason  the  Lord  caused  these 
words  to  be  inserted  in  the  prophetic  lamentation  of  the  Psalm- 
ist, "  They  j^rted  my  garments  among  them,  and  for  my  vest- 
ure they  cast  lots."  He  certainly  did  so,  not  merely  with  the 
intention  of  recording  a  circumstance,  trifling  in  itself,  from  the 
subsequent  fulfillment  of  which  it  should  be  evident  that  he  was 
indeed  the  promised  Messiah.  Consider  that  they  arc  rather  his 
own  feelings  and  sentiments  which  are  there  expressed.  They 
are,  in  part,  complaints  and  expressions  of  suffering;  but  also 
comprise  a  heart-cheering  view  of  the  incomparable  results 
which  would  accrue  to  sinners  from  Ins  sufferings.  In  the  latter 
class  must  be  included  the  words,  "  They  parted  my  garments, 
and  for  my  vesture  they  cast  lots."  The  Lord  in  them  en- 
courages himself  by  the  blessed  consequences  of  his  blood- 
Bhedding.  But  in  what  does  he  perceive  them?  Naturally,  not 
in  th(*fact  of  his  earthly  garments  being  divided  among  sinners. 
He  evidently  takes  this  outward  division  of  his  raiment  as  a 
symbol  full  of  meaning,  and  regards  it  in  a  sense  incomparably 
higher  and  more  spiritual.  And  what  is  that  ?  Thus  we  might 
ask,  my  friend,  if  there  was  no  mention  in  the  Holy  Scriptures 
of  a  garment  which  Christ  had  acquired  for  us.  But  you  know 
that  it  is  frequently  alluded  to.     Tins  spiritual  legacy  of  a  robe 


368  THE   MOST    HOLT   PLACE. 

is  there  sensibly  represented.     Such  is  the  object  of  the  transac- 
tion on  Mount  Calvary. 

What  we  read  respecting  Adam  is  worthy  of  our  most  serious 
consideration.  Before  he  gave  way  to  sin,  he  shone  in  the  white 
and  honorable  robe  of  perfect  innocence.  He  was  treated  as  a 
beloved  child  in  his  Father's  house.  He  was  permitted  to  ap- 
proach him,  and  cast  himself  upon  his  bosom,  when  and  wher- 
ever he  pleased.  Every  thing  was  put  under  his  feet,  and  his 
happiness  flowed  in  an  inexhaustible  stream.  The  holy  angels 
were  his  comrades,  and  the  peace  of  God  his  food,  early  and 
late.  But  scarcely  had  the  unhappy  fall  occurred  than  his  situ- 
ation was  entirely  changed.  We  now  behold  him  fleeing  and 
even  hiding  himself  from  the  face  of  God,  and  hear  him  reply  to 
the  inquiry,  "Adam,  where  art  thou?"  with  the  lamentable 
confession,  "  I  was  afraid,  and  hid  myself,  because  I  was  naked." 
What  was  expressed  in  this  •  confession  but  our  own  state  by 
nature?  Adam's  mournful  nakedness  is  ours.  We  also,  as  the 
apostle  says,  are  "  destitute  of  the  glory  we  ought  to  have  before 
God."  We  are  naked.  Not  a  thread  of  that  righteousness 
which  avails  in  the  sight  of  God  is  left  us.  Sin  has  banished 
the  last  gleam  of  the  radiance  of  our  original  beauty.  But  this 
fact  is  dreadful  and  momentous  beyond  degree.  Does  not  even 
sound  reason  tell  us  that  we  dare  not  appear  naked  and  un- 
adorned before  a  holy  God  ?  Cain  felt  that  he  was  thus  naked 
in  the  sight  of  God,  and  became  a  prey  to  despair.  The  same 
feeling  prompted  Judas  Iscariot  to  destroy  himself.  This  truth 
smote  the  conscience  of  the  Philippian  jailor,  and  he  was  upon 
the  point  of  throwing  himself  upon  his  sword.  And  what 
efforts  do  we  see  made  on  dying  beds,  to  lay  hold  of  something 
wherewith  we  may  appear  clothed  before  God !  In  one  instance, 
the  grasping  at  the  fig-leaves  of  a  handful  of  good  works,  which 
the  man  thinks  he  has  performed.  In  another,  what  attempts 
at  excuses  and  palliations!  In  a  third,  what  a  plaguing  him- 
self with  praying,  reading,  wringing  the  hands,  or  something  of 
the  kind!  What  is  the  object  of  all  this?  The  time  has 
arrived  when  men  begin  to  have  a  dawning  consciousness  of 
their  nakedness,  and  ihen  they  cry  out  for  a  covering,  for  they 


THE   DIVIDING   OF   THE   RAIMENT.  369 

feci  assured  that  it  is  an  awful  thing  to  appear  naked  before  the 
face  of  the  t/udge  of  the  whole  earth. 

Certainly,  it  is  an  awful  thing.  As  true  as  a  holy  God  lives 
in  heaven,  so  surely  shall  we  be  excluded  from  his  fellowship  if 
we  have  not  a  holiness  to  place  in  the  light  of  his  countenance, 
which  shall  reflect,  though  in  a  lesser  degree,  the  purity  of  his 
own  perfections.  But  where  are  we  to  procure  such  attire? 
Not  from  our  own  looms.  It  is  elsewhere  provided  .for  us.  Hear 
what  the  apostle  says,  "  Put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  These 
words  direct  us  to  that  which  leads  to  a  most  blissful  discovery. 

We  return  to  the  soldiers  under  the  cross.  They  are  busied 
in  dividing  among  themselves  the  upper  garment  of  the  dying 
Jesus.  They  are  not  prohibited  from  parting  this.  By  so  doing, 
they  continue  quite  in  the  figure  which,  under  divine  direction, 
they  are  to  represent  to  us.  The  upper  garment  symbolizes  the 
outwardly  operating  fullness  of  the  Saviour's  power  and  life ; 
and  in  a  second  signification,  the  spiritual  endowment  intended 
for  us.  This  is  divisible,  and  it  also  appears  divided  in  the 
assembly  of  the  faithful  One  had  more,  the  other  less  of  this 
legacy.  To  one,  "  the  gift  of  knowledge  was  allotted,  to  another 
the  gift  of  prophecy  by  the  same  Spirit;  to  a  third  the  power 
to  work  miracles ;  to  a  fourth,  •  the  discerning  of  spirits,"  etc. 
(1  Cor.  xii.)  A  distinct  measure  of  these  gifts  of  the  Spirit  was 
not  required  in  order  to  be  saved.  But  there  was  one  kind  of 
legacy  which  was  quite  indispensable  to  every  one  who  desires 
to  stand  in  the  judgment.  Its  emblem,  also,  you  find  in  the 
hands  of  the  mercenaries  under  the  cross.  Beside  the  Lord's 
upper  garment,  another  prize  has  fallen  to  them,  and  it  is  this 
which  forms  the  peculiar  capital  of  their  inheritance.  It  is  the 
vesture  or  body-coat  of  the  man  of  sorrows,  which  he  used  to 
wear  under  the  mantle ;  therefore  such  a  dress  as  the  high 
priest  was  obliged  to  put  on  when  he  entered  into  the  mos 
holy  place  on  the  great  day  of  atonement.  That  such  a  priestl 
garment  is  found  on  the  body  of  Jesus,  that  it  is  inherited  by 
one  of  his  murderers,  and  falls  to  him  wholly  and  undivided, 
is  extremely  significant.  A  child  must  be  conscious  that  he  is 
here  standing  before  hieroglyphics,  which  conceal  something 
important  and  profound.     But  what  is  the  marrow  of  this  sacred 

16* 


370  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

symbol?  Who  is  there  among  my  readers  that  has  not  an 
idea  of  it? 

Beneath  the  resplendent  robe  of  his  wonderful  and  active  life, 
the  Saviour  wore  another,  the  garment  of  a  perfect  obedience, 
which  he  yielded,  even  in  distress  and  death.  Nothing  was 
wanting  in  Mm.  Many  eyes — human,  angelic,  and  Satanic — have 
scrutinized  it,  but  all  have  been  rilled  with  wonder  at  the  sight. 
Even  the  eyes  of  God  be  ield  it  with  delight,  and  a  voice  from 
heaven  declared,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased."  It  was  a  garment  wrought  entirely  of  the  golden 
threads  of  the  purest  love  to  God  and  man,  without  spot  and 
without  a  seam,  and  woven  in  one.  piece.  You  see  it  is  the 
robe  of  righteousness  of  the  Son  of  God,  which  is  symbolized 
by  the  coat  without  a  seam,  for  which  the  lot  is  cast  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross. 

But  you  ask  in  surprise,  "  Did  this  also  belong  to  Jesus's 
legacy  to  sinners  ?"  Without  a  doubt.  Hear  what  the  Scrip- 
ture says:  "As  by  one  man's  disobedience  many  were  made 
sinners ;  so  by  the  obedience  of  one  shall  many  be  made  right- 
eous." And  again,  "  As  by  the  offense  of  ■  one,  condemnation 
came  upon  all  men,  so  by  the  righteousness  of  one,  the  free  gift 
came  upon  all  men  unto  justification  of  life,"  or  which  procures 
life.  (Rom.  v.)  Not  merely  was  forgiveness  intended  for  us, 
but  also  something  further  and  greater.  Paul  testifies  (Acts, 
xxvi.  18),  that  the  Lord  had  assured  him  that  his  people  should 
receive  "  forgiveness  of  sins  and  inheritance  among  them  which 
are  sanctified." 

Here,  therefore,  are  two  tilings  mentioned.  Forgiveness 
would  only  secure  us  against  deserved  punishment,  and  bestow 
upon  us  the  negative  blessing  of  being  uncondemned.  But 
according  to  the  counsel  of  a  merciful  God,  Ave  were  to  be 
•ositively  exalted,  blessed,  and  beatified ;  and  for  this  purpose 
,ve  required  a  righteousness  which  commended  us  not  only  to 
the  sparing  magnanimity,  but  also  to  the  loving  good  pleasure 
of  a  holy  God.  Christ  acquired  this  for  us  also.  While  fulfilling 
the  law  as  our  Surety,  he  placed  that  incomparable  obedi- 
ence before  the  eyes  of  his  heavenly  Father,  which,  being 
mercifully  imputed  to  us  on  the   part   of  God,  is,  on  our  part, 


THE   DIVIDING    OF   THE    RAIMENT.  371 

laid  hold  of  by  faith,  and  after  being  appropriated  by  us,  causes 
us  to  break  forth  into  the  song  of  the  prophet,  "  I  will  greatly 
rejoice  in  the  Lord,  my  soul  shall  be  joyful  in  my  God,  for  he 
hath  clothed  me  with  the  garments  of  salvation;  he  hath 
covered  me  with  the  robe  of  righteousness,  as  a  bridegroom 
decketh  himself  with  ornaments,  and  as  a  bride  adorneth  herself 
with  her  jewels.  For  as  the  earth  bringeth  forth  her  bud,  and 
as  the  garden  causeth  the  things  that  are  sown  in  it  to  spring- 
forth  ;  so  the  Lord  God  will  cause  righteousness  and  praise  to 
spring  forth  before  all  the  nations."     (Isaiah,  lxi.  10,  11). 

From  the  inheritance,  let  us  now  cast  a  cursory  look  upon 
the  heirs.  Who  is  it  that  inherits  the  costly  attire?  Only 
think,  one  of  the  murderers  who  are  sitting  beneath  the  cross, 
is  the  fortunate  man.  This  circumstance  tells  us  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  divine  intention,  no  wickedness,  however  great, 
excludes  unconditionally  from  the  inheritance.  It  only  depends 
upon  this,  that  the  symbolical  position  of  those  executioners, 
and  their  conduct,  with  respect  to  the  booty,  should  be  essentially 
fulfilled  in  us. 

What  is  their  position?  They  guard  the  cross,  and  thus 
point  out  to  us  the  place  of  refuge,  to  which,  as  our  last  resource, 
the  necessities  of  our  hearts  should  impel  us  to  flee.  First, 
they  know  how  to  value  the  preciousness  of  the  seamless  vest- 
ment. Next,  they  perceive  that  only  in  its  undivided  whole 
it  was  of  value  and  a  real  treasure ;  and,  finally,  they  are  satisfied 
that  they  shall  obtain  possession  of  the  costly  garment,  entirely 
gratuitously,  by  a  cast  of  the  dice,  and,  therefore,  without  any 
merit  of  their  own.  Do  you  now  understand  these  hieroglyphics? 
I  do  not  think  that  you  need  a  further  explanation  of  them. 
Become  poor  sinners,  learn  to  understand  the  demands  of  God 
upon  you,  and  be  content  to  be  justified  by  grace.  The  symbol 
under  the  cross  will  then  find  in  you  its  actual  antitype. 

How  the  heir  of  the  seamless  garment  will  have  rejoiced  at 
the  prize  he  won!  We,  my  readers,  have  inherited  the  robe, 
which  makes  us  objects  of  the  divine  good  pleasure,  and  shall 
the  chords  of  our  harps  be  silent?  Doubtless  the  fortunate 
man  immediately  put  on  his  legacy,  and  wore  it  thenceforward. 
Let  us  avail  ourselves  of  the  hint  thus  given  us,  to  "  put  on  the 


372  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

Lord  Jesus  Christ."  It  certainly  never  occurred  to  that  indi- 
vidual to  attach  strange  lappets  to  that  scientifically  woven 
garment.  Let  us  beware  of  the  absurd  idea  of  enlarging  the 
righteousness  which  we  have  in  Christ,  by  any  additional  doings 
of  our  own.  On  the  contrary,  let  us  make  the  proper  distinction 
between  justification  and  sanctification. 

Even  the  earthly  dress  of  the  crucified  Jesus  will  have  exer- 
cised a  manifold  influence  on  the  mind  of  the  mercenary,  and 
have  at  times  affected  him,  made  him  shudder,  and  feel  ashamed, 
and  doubtless  have  caused  the  image  of  the  man  from  whom  he 
inherited  it,  never  to  be  effaced  from  the  mirror  of  his  remem- 
brance. Eeflect,  therefore,  with  what  powerful  and  salutary 
influence  the  substance  of  that  shadow,  the  righteousness  of 
Christ  himself,  must  be  accompanied,  as  regards  the  heart  and 
life  of  those  who  are  able  to  appropriate  it  by  a  living  faith. 

The  soldier  might — as  regarded  his  upper  garment — have 
occasionally  gone  about  poorly  clad;  and  yet,  if  one  looked 
deeper,  it  would  not  be  denied  that  he  was  more  richly  attired 
than  many  a  king.  Is  not  the  case  similar  with  the  children  of 
G-od,  whose  external  dress  is  often,  especially  in  the  days  of 
trial,  any  thing  but  splendid  ?  and  yet  the  eye  of  all  heaven  rests 
upon  them  with  pleasure  ;  and  the  words  are  applicable  to  them, 
"  The  king's  daughter  is  all  glorious  within." 

Let  us  congratulate  ourselves,  therefore,  on  the  incomparable 
inheritance  left  us  by  him  who  expired  on  the  cross.  Let  as 
many  of  us  as  have  reason  to  number  ourselves  among  the 
heirs  of  Christ,  maintain  the  conviction,  lively  and  fresh  within 
us,  that  we  are  already  justified  in  him  before  God;  and  that 
the  love  of  G-od  is  not  measured  out  to  us  according  to  the  de- 
gree of  our  personal  holiness.  Let  the  watchword  of  our  faith, 
"Jehovah  Zidkenu,"  the  Lord  our  righteousness,  with  which 
we  overcome  the  world,  be  more  and  more  fluent  on  our  lips 
and  let  us  ever  sing,  with  increasing  fervor, 

"Jesus,  thy  blood  and  righteousness 
My  beauty  are,  my  glorious  dress; 
Midst  flaming  worlds  in  these  arrayed, 
With  joy  shaK.  I  lift  up  my  head." 


XLIII. 
THE    INSCRIPTION. 

Let  us  again  lift  up  our  eyes  to  the  inscription,  which  beams 
from  the  cross  of  the  Divine  Sufferer.  We  there  read,  "  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews,"  written  in  three  different 
tongues — Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew — the  three  theological 
languages,  that  all  the  world  may  read  and  understand.  Pilate 
had  so  ordered  it,  induced  partly  by  an  obscure  and  reverential 
presentiment,  and  partly  in  order  to  give  the  hated  Jews  a  final 
blow.  No  sooner  had  the  latter  read  the  inscription,  than  they 
angrily  hasten  to  the  governor,  and  say  to  him  in  an  imperious 
tone,  "  It  must  not  be  as  thou  hast  written.  Down  with  that 
inscription  from  the  cross  of  the  blasphemer.  Write  that  he 
presumptuously  said  that  he  was  the  King  of  the  Jews."  But 
Pilate  briefly  and  resolutely  replied,  "What  I  have  written,  I 
have  written !"  And  thus,  Pilate,  it  ought  to  be.  What  thou 
didst  write  was  not  from  arbitrary  choice,  for  another  guided 
thy  hand.  Thou  hast  prophesied  as  did  Balaam  of  old;  and 
with  thy  inscription,  art  ignorantly  and  involuntarily  become  a 
witness  for  the  truth. 

Wilt  thou  behold  the  King  of  Israel  ?  Come,  friend,  and  fol- 
low me  to  Calvary's  bloody  hill.  Seest  thou  that  man  on  the 
cross,  dying  the  death  of  a  malefactor  ?  "  What  ?"  say  est  thou, 
"  Is  this  a  king  ?"  Do  not  shake  thy  head,  but  know  that  thou 
art  wanting  in  discernment,  not  he  in  majesty.  Retrace  the 
ancient  Levitical  service,  and  behold  in  the  sacred  songs  and 
prophetic  language  of  the  Old  Testament  that  which  shall  throw 
light  upon  the  appalling  scene.  Light  thy  torch  in  the  Psalms 
of  David,  in  which  thou  hearest  a  great  King  complain  and  say, 
"  They  pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet.  They  gave  me  also  gall 
for  my  meat,  and  in  my  thirst  they  gave  me  vinegar  to  drink ;" 
and  yet  he  remains  a  King.  Listen  to  the  prophet  Isaiah  speak- 
ing of  One  who.  though  he  was  "  wounded  for  our  iniquities," 


3  74  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

yet  "  the  government  was  upon  his  shoulder,  and  of  his  peaceful 
kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end."  Read  the  words  of  Zechariah, 
"Awake,  0  sword,  against  the  man  that  is  my  fellow  1"  and 
hear  the  forerunner  in  the  wilderness,  exclaiming,  "  Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world !"  Eeturn 
with  these  lights  to  Calvary,  and  say  if  thou  art  still  so  much 
astonished  at  finding  the  inscription  on  the  cross,  which  stands 
between  the  other  two,  bearing  the  words,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
the  King  of  the  Jews  ?"  A  cloud  of  holy  witnesses  adoringly 
surround  the  cross — venerable  figures,  tried  saints,  patriarchs 
and  seers,  poets  and  prophets,  kings  and  priests.  The  figure  of 
the  bleeding  King  did  not  mislead  them.  Reverentially,  and 
far  from  starting  back  with  surprise,  they  read  the  inscription, 
11  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

Dost  thou  inquire  where  is  the  majesty  of  this  King  ?  Truly 
it  exists,  although  for  the  time  hidden,  like  the  glittering  gold  of 
the  ark,  beneath  the  rams'  skins  that  covered  it.  Be  not  of- 
fended at  the  gloomy  cloud  which  frowns  around  Mm.  The 
eye  of  faith  penetrates  through  it,  and  perceives  in  the  balmy 
background,  a  rainbow-garland  of  angels'  heads  and  serapliic 
faces.  If  they  appear  to  grieve  when  the  eyes  of  their  King 
close  in  death,  yet  they  bear  palms  m  their  hands,  with  which 
they  will  accompany  him  when  he  reascends  the  throne.  And 
who,  in  the  further  distance  of  the  heavenly  world,  compose  the 
brilliant  host  that,  sunk  in  adoration,  he  on  their  faces  beneath 
the  trees  of  hfe?  They  are  the  saints  of  Grod,  who  inherited 
the  kingdom  before  the  Lord  of  Grlory  descended  to  the  earth. 
But  when  they  shook  the  dust  of  their  pilgrimage  from  off  their 
feet,  he  said,  "Behold,  I  lay  down  my  hfe  for  these  lambs," 
and  at  these  royal  words,  the  gates  of  paradise  opened  to  admit 
them.  They  have  long  enjoyed  the  fruits  of  the  merits  of  their 
Surety,  before  he  commenced  his  work.  They  now  behold  him 
paying  the  promised  ransom  for  them,  and  supporting  the  bliss- 
ful abodes  they  inhabit  with  the  pillars  of  justice.  And  what  is 
left  for  them  at  tMs  sight,  but  to  sink  adoringly  in  the  dust  be- 
fore the  wondrous  man,  and  to  confess,  that  even  with  their 
glorified  vision  they  are  unable  to  fathom  the  depths  of  such 
infinite  compassion.     And  look  still  farther  in  spirit.     The  mul- 


THE   INSCRIPTION.  375 

titudes  of  people  out  of  every  age  and  nation,  their  eyes  atten- 
tively directed  to  the  cross,  and  their  faces  expressive  of  sacred 
peace  and  silent  blessedness — who  are  they,  who,  in  intermin- 
able circles,  surround  the  fatal  hill?  It  is  his  Church,  his 
redeemed  people,  including  the  best  and  noblest  of  mankind  in 
every  age.  See  the  censers  in  their  hands.  They  desire  only 
to  hear  and  know  respecting  the  Lamb  that  was  slain. 

Such  are  the  sights  which  faith  beholds  that  understands  how 
to  lift  the  vail  and  look  within.  And  on  beholfling  such  a  rep- 
resentation, the  cross  before  it  changes  to  a  throne,  the  crown 
of  thorns  about  the  brow  of  the  dying  man  becomes  a  diadem, 
and  Pilate's  inscription  is  read  with  reverence  and  adoration, 
"  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews!" 

Yes,  it  is  he !  Thou  mayest  recognize  him  by  the  victories  he 
achieves,  even  on  the  fatal  tree,  the  first  of  which  is  of  a  glori- 
ously twofold  character — over  himself  and  over  the  infernal 
tempter.  He  is  assailed  by  powerful  temptations,  which  rise  up 
in  the  shape  of  the  scornful  revilings  of  the  people,  who  exclaim, 
u  He  saved  others,  himself  he  can  not  save.  If  he  be  the  King 
of  Israel,  let  him  now  come  down  from  the  cross,  and  we  will 
believe  him,"  a  powerful  assault  of  the  wicked  one,  almost  more 
potent  than  when  he  urged  him  to  cast  himself  down  from  the 
pinnacle  of  the  temple.  How  much  did  the  taunting  advice  to 
come  down  correspond  with  the  necessities  of  his  suffering 
human  nature !  If  he  had  followed  it,  not  only  he  himself  would 
have  been  delivered  at  once  from  his  torment,  but  the  host  of 
blaspheming  adversaries  would  have  been  driven  from  the  field 
in  an  unexampled  manner,  and  convinced  of  his  divinity  almost 
more  plainly  than  was  afterward  the  case  by  his  resurrection 
from  the  dead.  Alluring  thought,  at  one  blow  to  strike  the 
raging  multitude  dumb,  and  bend  their  knees  in  the  dust !  But 
far  be  such  an  idea  from  him !  It  is  a  snare,  a  trap  of  the  art- 
ful fowler,  a  rock  under  water,  to  wreck  the  project  of  the  atone- 
ment just  before  its  final  accomplishment.  Jesus  surveys  the 
infernal  toils,  and  says  in  spirit,  "  G-et  thee  behind  me,  Satan ; 
I  will  not  come  down,  but  bleed,  sacrifice  myself,  and  pay  the 
wages  of  sin."  In  sublime  silence,  he  rejects  the  call,  and  bears 
the  torment ;  nor  did  he  deviate  from  his  path  a  single  moment. 


376  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

Come,  let  us  interweave  an  olive-branch  in  his  crown  of  thorns, 
and  wreathe  about  with  the  laurel  of  victory  the  inscription, 
"  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

Yes,  while  hanging  there,  he  is  still  a  royal  conqueror. 
Thou  mightest  think  that  no  one  was  more  overcome  than  he. 
But  the  prospective  glass  of  faith  will  show  thee  something  dif- 
ferent. In  the  representation  which  it  affords  thee,  thou  seest 
that  the  eye  of  Jesus,  instead  of  closing,  scatters  destroying 
lightnings ;  that  *  his  unfettered  hands  brandish  a  wondrous 
sword;  that  his  feet  tread  freely  on  a  stormy  arena.  Hot  is 
the  battle ;  furious  the  onslaught.  A  conflict  of  desperation  has 
commenced,  and  the  human  race  is  its  object.  The  hostile 
parties  are  the  captain  of  the  Lord's  host  and  the  infernal 
powers.  How  the  demons  of  the  pit  rage  and  struggle !  The 
prey  is  to  be  taken  from  them  and  the  captive  delivered ;  the 
scepter  to  be  wrested  from  their  hands,  and  the  right  they 
had  acquired  over  us  by  the  divine  decision  again  torn  from 
them.  And  it  is  the  man  in  the  crown  of  thorns  who  threatens 
their  dominion,  and  is  trying  to  overturn  it.  Nothing  in  the 
arsenal  of  hell  is  left  untried,  which  may  afford  any  hope  of 
victory.  But  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  laughs  at  the 
quivering  lance.  He  bleeds;  but  his  blood  is  the  enemy's 
overthrow.  He  falls  into  the  hands  of  his  adversaries ;  but  this 
is  the  means  of  rescuing  us  out  of  their  hands.  He  suffers  him- 
self to  be  fettered  by  the  bands  of  Belial ;  but  his  chains  beget 
our  liberty.  He  empties  the  cup  of  wrath;  but -only  that  he 
may  fill  it  with  blessings  for  us.  He  suffers  himself  to  be 
wounded  in  the  heel ;  but  at  the  same  moment  breaks  the  head 
of  the  old  Serpent ;  and  after  a  very  different  martial  rule  to  the 
customary  one,  he  conquers  the  enemy,  like  Samson,  by  his  fall. 

Such  are  the  achievements  of  the  dying  Jesus.  Even  though 
one  may  complain,  that  the  fairest  of  the  sons  of  men  should 
be  so  abused ;  another  became  hoarse  with  crying,  "  Come 
down,  and  show  us  who  thou  art !"  we,  who  know  how  to  view 
things  with  the  eye  of  faith,  neither  mourn  nor  cry  out.  To  us 
he  would  not  seem  more  glorious  were  he  to  descend  in  majestic 
splendor  from  the  cross,  amid  the  music  of  angelic  harps, 
than  he  appears  to  us,  yonder,  in  his  bleeding  form.     We  see 


THE   INSCRIPTION.  377 

him,  like  the  archangsl,  decked  with  victorious  insignia,  standing 
upon  a  thousand  dragons'  heads ;  and  while  sounding  the 
trumpet  of  triumph,  we  exclaim,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King 
of  the  Jews." 

A  third  victory  is  gained  at  the  cross,  the  greatest  and  most 
wonderful  of  all.  I  call  it  the  victory  of  the  lawgiver  over  the 
law.  There  was  no  want  of  wish  and  will  in  heaven  to  saye  us. 
They  existed  abundantly ;  but  the  right  to  undertake  the  great 
work  was  wanting.  The  holy  and  inviolable  law  was  the  bolt 
which  fastened  the  door  of  the  treasury  of  divine  mercy.  The 
law  put  in  its  protest  against  our  redemption.  Its  language  was, 
"No  salvation  for  sinners  till  their  guilt  is  expiated;"  and  even 
eternal  majesty  felt  bound  by  the  protestation.  But  divine 
wisdom  was  able  to  loose  their  fetters.  The  Eternal  Son  de- 
scended upon  earth  to  change  the  negative  of  the  law  into  an 
affirmative.  He  suffered  himself  to  be  "made  under  the  law," 
and  fulfilled  it,  as  our  representative,  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
enable  him  to  stand  forward,  and  say,  "  Which  of  you  con- 
vinceth  me  of  sin  ?"  But  tins  did  not  remove  the  barrier  from 
the  sluices  of  divine  mercy.  The  curse  had  to  be  endured,  to 
which  we  had  become  subject  by  a  breach  of  the  law.  He 
submitted  to  this,  likewise,  and  drank  the  cup  of  wrath.  Did  a 
drop  remain  ?  "  Not  one,"  was  the  law's  decision.  And  when 
the  voice  of  mercy  was  heard  from  heaven,  the  law  had  nothing 
to  object.  Divine  justice  resigned  the  scepter  to  its  august  sister, 
Love,  without  infringing  its  glory  in  the  slightest  degree.  We 
admire  the  victory  over  the  law,  without  violence,  in  the  way  of 
justice ;  and  adoringly  read  the  inscription,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
the  King  of  the  Jews." 

Yes,  he  is  a  King !  But  where  is  his  kingdom  ?  He  is 
founding  it  while  hanging  on  the  cross.  The  drops  of  blood, 
which  trickle  down,  are  the  price  he  paid  to  ransom  his  people, 
and  the  dying  groans  which  issue  from  his  breast,  the  joyful  peal 
which  announces  the  birthday  of  his  Zion. 

He  did  not  found  his  kingdom  when  gathering  the  people 
around  him,  and  addressing  them  from  the  mount  of  the  beati- 
tudes. Nor  when  he  scattered  in  the  darkness  the  sparks  of 
divine  truth,  and  when  the  shadows  of  death  were  dispersed  by 


378  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

the  light  of  his  heavenly  torch.  Not  there,  where  he  cast  out 
the  spirits  of  darkness,  and  by  his  miraculous  aid,  won  the 
eternal  gratitude  of  hundreds  of  the  weary  and  heavy-laden. 
Not  there,  where  with  the  splendor  of  his  deeds,  he  ravished 
the  world,  and  was  surrounded  by  their  enthusiastic  hosannas. 
Had  he  left  the  world  after  these  triumphs,  all  would .  have  re- 
mained upon  earth  as  before,  and  he  himself  have  been  without 
a  kingdom  and  a  people.  No  Jerusalem  would  have  been 
reared  in  the  vale  of  death ;  no  banner  of  liberty  have  waved 
from  the  turrets  of  Zion.  No  encampment  of  God's  people  in 
the  wilderness,  and  no  longing  after  a  better  country.  No! 
Teaching,  preaching,  and  example  could  not  effect  it.  The  new 
city  had  to  be  founded  on  the  blood  of  the  covenant ;  and  it  was 
done.  The  hands  that  were  nailed  to  the  cross  overcame  the 
world ;  and  founded,  in  the  midst  of  the  kingdom  of  darkness, 
the  kingdom  of  light  and  peace.  0  wonder  beyond  compare ! 
What  Pilate  wrote  remains  forever  true,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the 
King  of  the  Jews." 

The  Jews  did  not  imagine  it  was  he.  They  ventured  to  cry, 
"His  blood  come  upon  us  and  upon  our  children!"  You  know 
that  their  imprecation  was  fulfilled  in  the  manner  they  desired. 
"  Woe !"  exclaimed  the  blood,  and  cried  to  heaven  for  vengeance 
upon  them.  Behold  the  result!  A  heavy  storm  gathers  over 
Jerusalem.  The  torch  of  war  is  lighted  in  the  land.  A  forest 
of  hostile  lances  begirds  the  holy  city.  The  temple  sinks  in 
flames.  The  walls  fall  down.  Not  one  stone  remains  upon 
another,  and  the  blood  of  the  children  of  Abraham  flows  in 
torrents.  Those  who  escape  the  sword  must  flee  into  the  wide 
world,  far  from  their  beloved  hills  and  the  graves  of  their  fore- 
fathers, into  the  barren  and  inhospitable  waste.  And  Israel 
remains  to  this  day  a  subjugated  people,  and  steals  about  the 
mementos  of  its  former  glory.  It  is  by  divine  arrangement  that 
this  pillar  of  salt,  this  burning  bush,  which  miraculously  remains 
unconsumed,  continues  conspicuous  during  eighteen  hundred 
years.  This  people,  in  their  wretchedness,  are  a  lasting  me- 
morial, that  he,  whose  blood  they  had  invoked  over  them,  was 
and  is  a  King,  and  does  not  suffer  himself  to  be  mocked  with 
impunity.     And,   in  fact,   the  words,    "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  th» 


THE   LtfSCRIPTIOX.  379 

King  of  the  Jews/'  are  as  legibly  written  in  fiery  letters  of 
judgment  on  the  foreheads  of  his  people,  as  upon  the  cross. 
But  we  wait  for  a  time,  now  no  longer  distant,  in  which  the 
Lord  will  make  it  evident,  in  another  and  more  gratifying 
manner,  in  these  Ins  ancient  covenant  people,  that  he  is  their 
real  and  true  King.  "When  they  shall  eventually  come  with 
weeping  and  lamentation,  and  he  shall  gather  them  out  of  the 
land  of  the  north,  and  lead  them  in  a  plain  path,  by  the  rivers 
of  water,  and  shall  say  to  them,  "I  am  Israel's  father,  and 
Ephraim  is  my  first-born;"  then  the  most  obstinate  unbelief 
shall  no  longer  rebel,  but  reverently  fold  the  hands  on  reading  the 
inscription,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

Yes,  he  is  our  King!  He  reigns  from  the  cross.  From 
thence  to  this  hour  he  carries  on  the  government  in  the  city  of 
peace.  True,  he  no  longer  hangs  there,  but  when  he  presents 
himself  to  the  eye  of  faith,  and  when,  in  order  to  accomplish 
great  things  he  manifests  himself  in  vision,  he  appears,  as  be- 
fore, in  his  bleeding  form,  and  hanging  on  the  tree.  It  is  from 
thence  he  takes  the  spoil  from  the  strong,  and  produces  repent- 
ance in  the  sinful.  From  thence  he  humbles  the  lofty  looks,  and 
melts  the  stony  heart  in  the  fire  of  his  love.  From  thence  he 
comforts  the  anxious  soul,  and  dries  the  weeping  eyes  of  the 
contrite.  From  thence  he  awakens  rejoicing  in  the  camp  of  the 
true  Israelites,  and  encourages  his  people  to  dance  before  the 
ark.  0  how  variously  does  he  daily  make  it  manifest  that  he, 
as  the  crucified  Jesus,  is  the  true  King  of  Israel !  Yes,  in  his 
crown  of  thorns,  he  governs  the  world  of  spirits  and  of  hearts ; 
and  the  greatest  marvels  by  which  he  glorifies  himself  upon 
earth,  he  performs  with  his  pierced  hands.  Hence  Calvary 
continues  to  be  the  place  where  we  pay  our  homage,  and  where 
we  cease  not  adoringly  to  cry,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of 
the  Jews." 

Thus,  in  fact,  no  human  hand  ever  wrote  any  thing  more  true 
and  well-founded  than  the  inscription  which  Pilate,  under  divine 
direction,  wrote  and  placed  on  the  cross.  Yet  a  little  while,  and 
signs  from  heaven,  angelic  appearances,  falling  stars,  and  graves 
opening  at  the  trumpet's  sound  will  confirm  it.  Therefore, 
while  unfolding  before  my  readers  his  blood-besprinkled  banner, 


380  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

I  call  upon  them,  as  a  messenger  .from  God,  to  swear  allegiance 
to  this  sacred  standard,  to  worship  the  monarch  in  the  crown  of 
thorns,  and  reverently  to  bow  the  knee  with  the  multitude,  winch 
no  man  can  number,  before  the  inscription  on  the  cross,  "  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

My  friends,  the  time  is  at  hand,  when  we„  shall  no  longer  read 
it  on  the  cross,  but  in  the  radiant  letters  on  the  flowing  robe  of 
the  returning  conqueror.  0  that  then  none  of  us  may  be  forced 
to  say  to  the  rocks,  "  Fall  on  us,"  and  to  the  hils,  "  Cover  us  I* 
but  each  of  us  meet  him  with  joyful  acclamations,  and  hail  him 
Lord  of  all ! 


XLIV. 
"FATHER,    FORGIVE    THEM." 

Our  visit  to  the  horrible  darkness  winch  reigns  on  Calvary  has 
this  time  reference  only  to  the  ray  of  compassion  which  flashes 
through  it,  than  which,  one  more  beatifying  never  shone  upon 
the  sinful  earth.  This  ray  displays  its  effulgence  in  the  inter- 
cession of  him  who  hangs  bleeding  on  the  cross.  In  it,  the 
divine  sufferer  throws  down  from  his  cross  the  first-fruit  of 
his  passion  into  the  lap  of  the  human  race,  whom  he  came  to 
redeem. 

Horrible  is  the  tumult  on  Calvary.  A  choir  from  the  pit  of 
hell  precedes  the  chorus  of  angels.  The  powers  of  darkness 
exhaust  themselves  in  vomiting  forth  rage  and  blasphemy ;  and 
alas!  the  very  men  whose  vocation  it  is  to  be  keepers  of  the 
sanctuary,  yield  themselves  up  to  be  the  most  zealous  instru- 
ments of  hell.  Without  being  aware  of  it,  these  men  of  Belial 
entirely  fail  of  their  object.  Their  intention  is  to  degrade  the 
man  on  the  cross,  and  yet  they  are  obliged  to  glorify  him.  They 
are  anxious  to  tear  from  his  head  the  last  remnant  of  his  crown ; 
but  they  only  lift  the  vail  from  off  his  majesty.  Listen  to  the 
taunts  which  they  pour  forth  upon  the  Holy  One ;  but  remark, 
at  the  same  time,  how  taese  outbreaks,  viewed  in  the  light,  only 


"father,  forgive  them."  381 

contain  the  most  honorable  confessions  respecting  him.  "He 
saved  others,"  say  they,  "  himself  he  can  not  save."  Truly,  this 
plain  confession  on  the  part  of  his  adversaries  is  of  high  import- 
ance, since  it  confirms  anew  the  historical  account  of  the  saving 
and  delivering  acts  of  Jesus  recorded  by  the  evangelists. 

"  He  trusted  in  God,"  they  continue.  Infer  from  hence,  my 
readers,  how  evidently  his  heavenly  and  devotional  frame  must 
have  impressed  itself  on  his  entire  outward  deportment,  so  that 
it  did  not  remain  concealed  even  from  such  worthless  characters 
as  these. 

"  He  said,  '  I  am  the  Son  of  God ;'  let  him  deliver  him  now 
if  he  will  have  him !"  Can  it  be  otherwise  than  extremely  wel- 
come to  us,  to  hear  it  confirmed,  even  by  his  most  furious  op- 
ponents, that  the  Lord  had  declared  himself  to  be  the  Son  of 
God,  and  had  therefore  made  no  secret  of  his  heavenly  de- 
scent ? 

"  Thou  that  destroyest  the  temple,"  they  exclaim  further, 
"and  buildest  it  up  in  three  days,  save  thyself!"  Observe  how 
they  confirm  what  he  had  so  decidedly  announced  concerning  his 
resurrection  from  the  dead.  In  the  same  manner,  by  their  taunt- 
ing words,  "  Let  Christ  the  King  of  Israel  descend  now  from 
the  cross,"  they  establish  the  fact,  that  the  Saviour  had  repeatedly 
applied  this  significant  title  to  himself.  What  do  these  wicked 
men  therefore  effect?  In  their  fury  they  break  a  diamond  in 
pieces,  by  which  they  only  cause  it  to  show  its  genuineness  by 
its  sparkling  splinters.  In  their  wrath  they  pluck  to  pieces  a 
divine  rose,  but  by  so  doing  only  display  the  brilliance  and 
enamel  of  every  petal. 

The  Saviour  hears  the  envenomed  taunts  of  the  crowd  below. 
He  knows  from  whence  they  proceed,  and  to  whom  the  blas- 
phemers serve  as  instruments,  without  their  being  aware  of  it. 
In  their  infuriated  language,  he  hears  only  a  ruder  echo  of  those 
temptations  -with  which  the  prince  of  darkness  once  assailed  him 
in  the  wilderness.  But  now,  as  then,  he  is  conscious  of  being 
on  the  path  pointed  out  to  him  by  his  Heavenly  Father ;  and 
this  serves  him  as  an  impenetrable  shield,  with  which  he 
quenches  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  adversary.  0  that  we  could 
now  cast  a  look  into  the  Redeemer's  soul !    But  profound  silence 


382  THE  MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

conceals  it  from  us,  like  the  vail  m  the  temple.  If,  in  such 
moments,  when  the  measure  of  the  opprobrium  vented  on  him 
overflowed,  the  glow  of  a  holy  indignation  had  flushed  him,  or 
the  thunder  of  the  apostle's  "  Anathema  Maranatha"  had  rolled 
through  his  soul — if  his  heart  had  turned  to  him  who  calls 
himself  an  avenger  of  the  evil,  with  a  prayer  to  reward  the 
wicked  according  to  their  deeds — or  if,  in  his  own  mind,  a  judi- 
cial woe  had  been  pronounced  upon  these  accursed  sons  of  Belial, 
his  holiness  would  have  been  fully  preserved,  and  even  hell  itself 
must  have  justified  him  in  forever  renouncing  the  redemption 
of  such  a  race  as  the  descendants  of  Adam. 

But,  be  still !  See,  his  lips  are  moving.  He  is  about  to 
speak.  What  shall  we  now  hear  ?  Will  any  thing  of  the  kind 
above  mentioned  be  thundered  down  from  the  cross  ?  It  might 
reasonably  be  expected.  Look,  he  opens  his  mouth.  But — 
can  we  believe  our  ears  ?  "  Father,"  says  he,  "  forgive  them  !" 
What  ?  Who  does  he  mean  ?  Surely  not  the  servants  of  Satan 
who  have  nailed  him  to  the  cross — the  heartless  brutes,  who  are 
even  still  rending  him  with  their  poisoned  fangs?  Yes,  it  is 
even  they  to  whom  his  intercession  refers.  It  is  for  them  he 
requests  mercy  and  forgiveness.  We  bow  our  heads  and  adore. 
What  language,  "Father,  forgive  them!"  and,  in  the  words, 
what  an  act,  greater  than  the  most  splendid  miracles  with  which 
he  marked  his  radiant  path  through  the  world.  Christ  was 
admirable  in  Ins  transfiguration  on  Mount  Tabor;  but  here  he 
shines  in  superior  fight. 

"Forgive  them!"  Is  it  possible!  With  these  words,  as 
sincerely  as  they  sound,  he  covers  the  guilty  heads  of  his  mur- 
derers with  the  shield  of  his  love,  in  order  to  secure  them  from 
the  storm  of  the  well-deserved  wrath  of  Almighty  God.  With 
these  words,  which  must  have  produced  adoring  astonishment 
even  in  the  angels  themselves,  he  takes  these  miscreants  in  the 
arms  of  his  compassion,  and  bears  them  up  the  steps  of  his 
Father's  throne,  in  order  to  commend  them  to  his  mercy.  For 
know,  my  readers,  that  the  words  "Forgive  them,"  mean,  in 
Jesus's  mouth,  not  merely,  "Do  not  impute  tc  them  the  mur- 
derous crime  they  have  committed  upon  me."  No,  when  he 
utters  "Forgive,"   it   comprehends  something  much  more,   and 


PATIIEK,  FORGIVE   THEM."  383 


embraces  the  whole  register  of  sins.  In  his  mouth  it  means, 
"  Plunge  their  whole  sinful  life  into  the  depths  of  the  sea,  and 
remember  no  more  their  transgressions,  but  consider  these  sin- 
ners henceforth  as  dear  in  thy  sight,  and  act  toward  them  as 
such." 

There  are  individuals  upon  earth  for  whom  no  one  feels  in- 
clined to  pray,  because  they  are  too  depraved.  There  are  those 
who  even  dare  not  pray  for  themselves,  because  their  consciences 
testify,  that  such  worthless  creatures  as  they  are,  can  not  reckon 
upon  being  heard.  What  a  prospect  is  here  opened  to  people 
of  this  description!  Ah,  if  no  heart  beats  for  them  on  earth, 
the  heart  of  the  King  of  kings  may  still  feel  for  them.  If 
among  their  friends,  not  one  is  to  be  found  to  intercede  for 
them,  yet,  possibly,  the  Lord  of  Glory  is  not  ashamed  of  bearing 
their  names  before  his  Father's  throne.  0  what  hope  beams 
on  Calvary  for  a  sinful  world !  And  if  the  great  Intercessor 
appears  there  for  a  transgressor,  how  does  his  intercession 
succeed !  Though  a  whole  world  should  protest  against  it,  his 
prayer  saves  whom  he  will.  His  voice  penetrates  the  heart  of 
the  eternal  Father  with  irresistible  power.  His  entreaties  are 
commands.  Mountains  of  sin  vanish  before  his  intercession. 
How  highly  characteristic  and  deeply  significant  is  the  fact 
that  the  Lord,  with  this  prayer,  commences  the  seven  expres- 
sions he  uttered  on  the  cross.  The  words,  "Forgive  them!!' 
show  us  not  merely  the  heaven  of  loving-kindness  which  he 
carries  in  his  bosom,  but  it  also  darts  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
through  the  gloom  of  the  entire  night  of  suffering,  and  deciphers 
the  mysterious  position  which  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  here 
occupies  as  Surety,  Mediator,  and  High  Priest 

"  As  High  Priest  ?"  you  exclaim.  Certainly,  you  must  feel 
that  he  could  only  venture  to  offer  up  such  a  prayer  in  that 
capacity.  Apart  from  this  his  peculiar  divine  office,  such  a 
petition  would  have  been  like  a  Titan-storm  against  the  divine 
order ;  nay  as  a  rebellious  attempt  to  overturn  the  foundations 
of  God's  throne,  which  are  justice  and  judgment.  How  can 
the  holy  God  deal  with  sinners?  Can  he  say  any  thing  else 
than,  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  polluted  beings  ?"  How  can  the 
God  of  justice  act  toward  transgressors?     Must  he  not,  if  he 


384  THE   MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

will  not  act  contrary  to  his  nature,  reward  every  one  according 
to  his  works  ?  How  would  it  become  the  God  of  wisdom 
blindly  to  take  some  one  promiscuously  from  a  crowd,  and 
elevate  him  to  his  glory?  Is  it  not  more  becoming,  that  he 
should  carefully  sift  and  scrutinize?  And  how  could  he  be  a 
God  of  order  without  doing  so !  Can  he,  who  is  the  true  God, 
make  laws  and  denounce  threatenings  against  transgressors, 
and  yet  pardon  those  who  have  actually  trodden  his  law  under 
foot,  without  breaking  his  word,  and  withdrawing  his  threaten- 
ings? Impossible;  if  he  will  not  render  himself  liable  to  a 
well-founded  accusation,  he  must,  in  spite  of  all  human  entreaty 
for  pardon,  inflict  curse  where  it  belongs,  and  wrath  upon  him 
to  whom  it  is  due. 

All  this  stands  everlastingly  firm,  and  yet  the  prayer  for 
forgiveness  raises  its  wing  from  the  mount  of  suffering  and 
passes  apparently  through  all  those  eternal  and  unimpingeable 
statutes  and  limitations.  It  puts  aside  even  Mount  Sinai  and 
Ebal,  and  heeds  not  the  cherub  of  the  law,  who  keeps  the  gate 
of  paradise,  and  is  enjoined  to  admit  only  the  righteous.  Care- 
less of  his  flaming  sword,  it  soars  with  seemingly  unheard-of 
boldness  above  the  brazen  walls  of  the  manifold  menaces  of  the 
divine  maledictions,  which  inexorably  close  against  sinners  the 
entrance  to  the  mansions  above,  and  in  a  most  striking  contrariety 
with  the  indelible  inscription  over  the  eternal  sanctuary,  "  Him 
that  sinneth  against  me,  will  I  blot  out  of  my  book,"  requests 
forgiveness  and  even  admittance  into  the  habitations  of  the 
blessed  children  of  God,  for  rebels,  blasphemers,  and  mur- 
derers. 

"Does  the  Saviour's  prayer  do  so  much,  and  yet  continue 
legitimate?"  Yes,  my  readers,  it  is  legitimate,  well-founded, 
and  entitled  to  be  heard.  The  mercy  of  interceding  love  on  the 
cross,  is  a  law  which  is,  at  the  same  time,  subject  to  all  the 
ordinances  of  God.  Its  seeming  boldness  is  only  in  appearance. 
It  knows  what  it  does,  while  crying  for  forgiveness  to  him  with 
whom  is  no  variableness  nor  shadow  of  turning.  It  is  well  aware 
of  the  properties  of  the  house  of  God,  while  desiring  blessing 
and  liberation  for  those  whom  the  law  condemns  and  sentences 
to  the  prisons  of  darkness.     It  does  not  direct  its  petition  to  an 


"  FATHER,  FORGIVE   THEM."  385 

arbitrariness  in  God,  which  does  not  exist,  but  appeals  to  both 
the  divine  justice  and  mercy.  Its  prayer  sets  aside  no  divine 
ordinance,  but  leaves  them  all  uninfringed  upon.  It  is  so  far 
from  desiring  that  the  Almighty  should  deny  himself  or  his 
word,  that  it  has,  on  the  contrary,  the  glory  of  God  as  its 
supreme  and  final  aim. 

"  But  can  God  continue  in  the  exercise  of  all  his  perfections, 
if  he  rewards  murderers  with  his  favor  ?"  Yes,  my  readers, 
he  can;  and  it  is  just  this,  which  is  the  greatest  mystery  of 
godliness,  of  which  the  Gospel  opens  the  seals,  but  which  is 
accessible  only  to  faith.  Jesus,  who  here  prays  for  his  mur- 
derers, stands  in  the  very  place  of  those  men,  as  their  repre- 
sentative. If  they  have  broken  the  law,  he,  the  Surety,  has 
fulfilled  it  in  their  stead.  Are  they  worthy  of  death?  He  is 
the  Lamb  that  lets  itself  be  made  sin  for  them,  that  sin  might 
be  no  longer  imputed  to  them.  If  they  drew  down  upon  them 
the  curse  of  the  law,  he  is  the  Mediator  of  whom  it  is  written, 
"  Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being 
made  a  curse  for  us."  If,  according  to  the  judgment  of  God, 
they  are  consigned  to  the  powers  of  darkness,  he  gives  himself 
up  as  a  voluntary  sacrifice  to  their  fiery  darts.  If  the  sentence 
applies  to  them,  "  In  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt 
surely  die ;"  he  suffers  this  sentence  to  be  executed  on  liis  own 
sacred  person,  in  order  that  it  might  be  said,  "  If  one  die  for  all, 
then  were  all  dead." 

Therefore,  satisfaction,  atonement,  and  mediation,  are  the 
momentous  words  which  express  the  ground  of  justification  for 
the  intercession  of  Jesus.  The  whole  world  must  now  be  mute, 
and  hell  likewise,  when  God  himself  receives  into  his  favor 
blasphemers  and  murderers,  for  whom  Jesus  appeared  in  the 
breach.  For  complete  satisfaction  is  rendered  to  all  the  statutes 
of  the  eternal  sanctuary,  and  divine  justice  can  no  longer  object 
when  eternal  love  presses  sinners  with  blessing  to  its  breast. 
But  how  comforting  and  consoling  it  is  to  see  that  divine  grace 
and  forgiveness  rest  upon  such  foundations ! 

We  now  fully  comprehend  the  tone  and  perfect  certainty,  firm- 
ness, and  confidence  with  which  the  words,  "Father,  forgive 
them  !"  are  uttered.     The  High  Priest  pronounces  them  from  the 

17 


386  THE   MOST   HOLY    PLACE. 

most  holy  place,  and  that  too  at  the  very  moment  when  he  is 
paying  the  debt  of  the  guilty.  That  he  really  does  this,  and 
that  the  true  meaning  of  his  sufferings  is  to  be  sought  in  this,  he 
once  for  all  evinces  to  a  sinful  world  from  his  elevation  on  the 
cross;  and  hence,  while  bleeding  on  their  behalf,  he  sends  up 
to  heaven  this  unconditional  petition  for  mercy  in  favor  of  the 
vilest  sinners,  his  murderers. 

"But  how  could  the  Lord  commend  these  hardened  rebels  to 
divine  mercy  ?"  Observe,  my  friends,  that  those  whom  he  had 
in  view,  were  by  no  means  hardened.  For  such  as  have  com- 
mitted the  "sin  unto  death"  there  is  certainly  no  longer  any 
deliverance  or  salvation,  and  according  to  the  apostle's  direc- 
tions, we  ought  not  to  pray  for  such.  But  the  Lord  well  knows 
what  he  is  doing.  Although  he  says  at  first,  "Forgive  them," 
which  is  certainly  very  general,  yet  he  immediately  limits  his 
words,  so  that  Judas,  for  instance,  and  doubtless  many  of  the 
heads  of  the  people,  are  excluded  from  the  influence  of  his  inter- 
cession. The  addition  of  the  words,  "  They  know  not  what 
they  do,"  defines  its  bounds.  By  this  clause  the  Lord  selects 
from  the  multitude  which  surrounds  him  those  to  whom  the 
majority  of  them  that  crucified  him  probably  belonged.  They 
were  not  like  the  Pharisees,  who  accused  Jesus  of  casting  out 
devils  by  Beelzebub,  and  had  therefore  committed  the  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost,  but  they  were  under  a  delusion,  which  was 
certainly  far  from  guiltless,  when  they  consigned  Jesus  to  death. 

Now  observe,  first,  the  sublime  self-possession  which  the 
Lord  here  again  manifests  in  the  words,  "  They  know  not  what 
they  do."  For  what  other  meaning  lies  concealed  beneath  them 
than  this,  that  if  they  had  known  it  was  the  Lord  of  Glory,  or 
even  some  innocent  and  just  person,  they  would  not  have  done 
it?  For  in  the  words,  "They  know  not  what  they  do,"  the 
idea  is  included  that  while  offering  up  the  Lord  Jesus,  they 
unconsciously  pay  the  ransom  for  themselves,  and  thereby  ren- 
der it  possible  for  God  to  have  mercy  upon  them,  without  detract- 
ing from  his  justice. 

Finally,  the  words,  "  They  know  not  what  they  do,"  must  be 
apprehended  in  the  same  sense  in  which  I  must  be  understood, 
if  I  likewise  said  of  any  one  whom  I  had  come  to  deliver  out  of 


"father,  forgive  them."  387 

his  distress,  but  who,  ignorant  of  my  intention,  basely  repulsed 
•  He  knows  not  what  he  is  doing."  In  this  case,  my  mean- 
.  ould  be,  "Have  patience;  he  will  soon  recollect  himself 
when  he  is  aware  who  I  am,  and  for  what  purpose  I  entered 
his  abode,  and  will  then  act  differently  toward  me."  I  thus 
utter  a  prediction,  and  such  a  one  is  doubtless  included  in  our 
Lord's  words.  They  contain  a  vailed  prediction  of  the  future 
repentance  and  conversion  of  those  for  whom  he  prays.  For 
even  by  this  petition  a  powerful  impulse  to  repentance  is  given 
them,  and  a  direction  to  a  change  of  mind.  Only  look  forward 
a  little,  and  you  will  already  see,  first,  in  the  Roman  centurion 
under  the  cross,  and  his  shield-bearer,  the  commencement  of 
the  fulfillment  of  that  prediction.  Mark,  then,  the  crowds  who, 
returning  from  Calvary  to  Jerusalem,  smote  upon  their  breasts, 
and,  at  least  in  part,  gave  evidence  of  sincere  repentance. 
Assuredly  among  them  were  some  to  whom  the  petition, 
"  Father,  forgive  them,"  applied.  But  if  they  were  not  among 
these,  they  were  decidedly  among  the  three  thousand  who  were 
pierced  to  the  heart  by  the  apostles'  words  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost. For  listen  to  the  address  of  Peter :  "  This  Jesus,"  says 
he,  "  whom  ye  "have  crucified,  hath  God  made  both  Lord  and 
Christ.  Now,  when  they  heard  tins,"  the  narrative  states,  "  they 
were  pricked  in  their  hearts,  and  said,  Men  and  brethren,  what 
shall  we  do  ?"  Yes,  it  was  these  who  knew  not  what  they  did, 
but  now  it  became  evident  to  them.  0  how  did  the  remem- 
brance of  the  words,  "  Father,  forgive  them,"  smite  humblingly 
and  overwhelmingly  upon  their  hearts!  How  did  the  love 
which  was  manifested  in  those  words  melt  their  souls  1  Alas! 
alas!  they  had  nailed  to  the  cross  their  only  Deliverer  and 
Saviour!  Could  it  be  otherwise  than  that  under  such  reflec- 
tions their  eyes  became  fountains  of  tears  ?  But  the  repentance 
for  which  the  consolation  of  forgiveness  first  made  room  in  their 
souls,  issued  in  devotedness  to  the  Lord,  and  in  their  being 
faithful  to  him  even  unto  death.  Thus  did  the  petition,  "Father, 
forgive  them,  they  know  not  what  they  do,"  neither  overthrow 
the  statutes  of  divine  justice,  nor  the  method  of  grace,  once  for 
all  established  by  the  Lord.  Justice  retained  its  splendor,  by 
virtue  of  the  satisfaction  of  the  only-begotten  Son,  and  the  plan 


388  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

of  salvation  was  preserved  entire  in  the  repentance  and  conver- 
sion of  them  to  whom  the  petition  applied. 

Let  us  then  rejoice,  my  friends,  that  the  most  desirable  and 
indispensable  of  all  blessings,  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  is  acquired 
so  fully  and  legally  for  us.  What  do  all  the  treasures  in  the 
world  avail,  if  we  do  not  know  that  our  names  are  written  in 
heaven,  and  that  we  have  an  inheritance  there?  But  reflect, 
that  the  forgiveness  acquired  on  the  cross,  although  always  an 
entirely  free  gift  of  grace,  is  forever  with-held  from  those  who 
know  what  they  do,  while  refusing  to  give  their  hearts  to 
Christ;  and  just  as  little  belongs  to  those  who  persist  in  their 
ignorance  and  in  their  deluded  opposition  to  him.  Awake, 
therefore,  from  your  deadly  sleep  of  security;  bid  farewell  to 
pharisaic  deception,  condemn  the  sin  that  besets  you,  and  then 
hasten  penitently  and  believingly  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  and 
devote  yourselves,  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  unto  him  who  loved 
you,  and  gave  himself  for  you ;  for  this  is  the  road  that  leadeth 
unto  life. 


XLV. 

THE    MALEFACTOR. 

• 

Again  w§  direct  our  eyes  upward.  The  three  crucified  individ- 
uals form  the  center  of  our  present  meditation.  The  dying  men 
are  in  so  far  alike  in  their  situation,  as  having  each  of  them  ar- 
rived at  the  last  stage  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage,  and  are  hover- 
ing on  the  solemn  and  awful  brink  of  a  momentous  eternity.  He 
who  hangs  in  the  midst,  although  exposed  to  a  raging  storm, 
takes  in  the  sails  for  a  peaceful  entrance  into  the  haven  of  repose. 
We  see  the  other  two,  on  the  contrary,  almost  shipwrecked  and 
threatened  with  the  most  dreadful  ruin,  struggling  with  the 
billows.  They  had  opened  their  hearts  to  delusion ;  had  pursued 
temporal  enjoyments  with  the  rebellious  motto,  "Liberty, 
equality,  and  pleasure,"  and  were  carried  along,  unrestrainedly, 
from  sin  .to  sin,  till  arrested  at  length  as  murderers,  they  were 


THE    MALEFACTOR.  389 

crucified  as  an  atonement  to  public  justice.  Pleasure  is  short, 
repentance  long.  What  other  booty  did  they  carry  off  from 
their  ungodly  doings,  than  the  bodily  misery  in  which  we  see 
them  languishing,  the  worm  in  their  bosom  that  never  dies,  and 
the  fire  in  the  bones  which  is  never  quenched?  0  folly  and 
madness,  to  devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  the  devil,  instead 
of  to  that  of  the  Most  High  God,  while  the  most  costly  rewards 
of  the  former  are  only  Belshazzar's  feasts  and  the  hands  of  the 
executioner !  Millions  of  sinners,  in  the  example  given  by  their 
dreadful  end,  have  cried  more  loudly  to  the  world,  than  it  was 
possible  to  do  by  words,  "  You,  who  are  halting  between  two 
opinions,  for  God's  sake,  and  that  of  your  own  soul's  salvation, 
go  not  to  the  left,  for  hell  howls  there."  Yet  immense  is  the 
number  of  those,  who,  like  the  herd  into  which  the  unclean 
spirits  entered,  do  not  cease  to  plunge  themselves  into  the  gulf 
of  destruction  after  their  deluded  forerunners ;  and  the  groans  of 
despair,  in  the  eternal  deserts,  increase  from  one  night-watch  to 
another. 

The  two  malefactors  have  hung  there  for  a  while  in  silence ; 
but  have  been  unable  to  turn  away  their  eyes  from  the  wonder- 
ful man  who  welters  in  his  blood  by  their  side,  and  in  whom 
the  vital  and  bodily  appearance  of  a  superhuman  sanctity  was 
by  no  means  hidden  from  them.  At  length  the  one  on  Jesus's 
left,  begins  to  speak,  but  alas!  very  differently  from  what  we 
might  have  expected.  Joining  in  the  blasphemous  speeches, 
which  rise  up  from  the  crowd  below,  he  says  to  the  man  in 
the  crown  of  thorns,  "  If  thou  be  the  Christ,  save  thyself  and  us!" 

The  meaning  of  these  words  is  doubtless  manifold.  The 
malefactor  has  evidently  received  the  impression  respecting  the 
man  at  his  side,  that  if  he  only  would,  he  could  both  save  him- 
self and  them ;  and  his  speech  to  him  was  an  attempt,  though  a 
desperate  one,  to  lay  hold  of  Christ  by  his  honor,  and  thereby 
to  induce  him  to  an  act  of  rescue.  But  the  mistrust  he  placed 
in  the  willingness  of  Jesus  to  perform  such  a  miracle,  far  ex- 
1  the  hope  in  him,  and  hence  the  words  proceeded  from 
him  in  a  tone  of  vexation  and  bitter  railing  against  Christ. 

But  who  inspired  him  with  the  idea,  that  the  Lord,  supposing 
he  had  the  power,  would  still  not  save  him  ?     His  conscience 


390  THE   MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

testified  it.  The  spotless  purity  of  the  mysterious  Sufferer  threw 
a  bright  reflection  even  into  the  dark  mind  of  the  malefactor, 
and  condemned  him  in  his  inmost  soul,  as  a  moral  abortion,  by 
the  mere  display  of  its  brilliance.  But  was  not  this  inward 
judgment  a  blessing  to  him  ?  It  might  have  been  so.  At  all 
events,  it  decided  his  fate.  Had  he  made  room  for  the  entering 
in  of  the  truth,  and  have  judged  himself,  as  the  revered  reflection 
of  the  Holy  One  judged  him,  he  would  then  have  set  his  foot  on 
the  path  of  salvation,  and  his  wretched  soul,  however  debased, 
would  have  been  saved.  But  in  his  beggarly  pride,  he  sought 
to  maintain  his  favorable  idea  of  himself;  and  instead  of 
penitence  and  humiliation,  an  infernal  hatred  was  kindled 
within  him,  against  one,  whose  presence  impressed  upon  him 
the  brand-mark  of  depravity.  Hence  the  words  proceeded  from 
him  like  the  bite  of  the  poisonous  adder — "If  thou  be  the 
Christ,  save  thyself  and  us."  Wretched  man,  how  should  he, 
who  by  a  word  could  have  burst  the  bonds  of  hell  and  of  death, 
not  have  been  able  to  save  himself,  if  higher  considerations  had 
not  induced  him  to  act  otherwise  ! 

"Save  thyself  and  us!"  0  unparalleled  audacity,  to  degrade 
the  Lord  of  heaven  to  a  level  with  himself  a  son  of  Belial,  and 
besides  this,  to  claim  his  help,  although  his  heart  was  hardened 
against  him !  Yet  echoes  of  these  taunting  words  of  the  male- 
factor still  very  frequently  reach  our  ears.  How  often  do  we 
hear  people  say,  while  biting  their  lips,  "  Say  no  more  about 
your  God;  for  if  he  be  God,  why  does  he  leave  us  in  our 
wretchedness?"  0  what  horrible  pride  in  a  fallen  sinful 
creature !  What  else  dost  thou  deserve,  thou  daring  rebel 
against  the  statutes  of  his  kingdom,  than  that  he  should  leave 
thee  to  languish  in  thy  distress?  First  humble  thyself  in  the 
dust,  and  submit  without  reserve  to  his  scepter,  and  then 
wait  ap.d  see  if  he  will  not  let  mercy  take  the  place  of  justice. 
But  this  thou  refusest  to  do;  and  thou  art  conscious  of  being 
inwardly  condemned  for  thy  opposition  to  him.  The  painful 
feeling  of  his  displeasure  increases  in  thy  heart  the  rebellion 
against  him,  and  transforms  thy  repugnance  into  hatred  and 
bitterness.  Still  thou  canst  not  divest  thyself  of  him.  On  the 
contrary,  every  one  is  compelled,  in  his  peculiar  manner,  to  aid 


THE   MALEFACTOK.  391 

in  glorifying  him.  If  he  does  not  honor  God  with  his  love,  lie 
honors  him  by  his  hatred  of  him.  That  God  is  a  consuming 
fire,  is  felt  by  the  rebel  against  him,  as  well  as  by  the  seraph  on 
the  fiery  wings  of  his  fervor. 

No  answer  is  returned  to  the  malefactor  on  the  left.  There 
would  still  have  been  help  for  the  robber  and  murderer;  but 
there  is  no  deliverance  for  the  impenitent  scoffer  and  hardened 
child  of  unbelief.  The  Lord  is  obliged  to  leave  the  wretched  man 
to  his  fate — yes,  the  Lord,  the  only  Saviour  in  heaven  and  on 
earth.  "Who  does  not  tremble  ?  But  God  is  a  God  of  order, 
and  even  his  mercy  is  never  arbitrarily  bestowed. 

Turn  your  eyes  now  to  the  right  of  the  Divine  Sufferer.  Here 
a  spectacle  is  preparing,  at  which  our  souls  may  recover  from 
the  horror  which  took  possession  of  them,  at  the  preceding 
scene.  A  refreshing  contrast  is  presented  by  the  other  male- 
factor, whom,  though  equally  guilty  with  the  pitiable  companion 
of  his  fate,  and  on  the  verge  of  hell,  we  behold  rending  and 
casting  away  the  fetters  of  Satan,  just  in  time,  and  then  ascending 
a  path,  which  is  not  trodden  too  late,  even  from  the  station 
which  precedes  the  pit  of  destruction. 

We  are  not  expressly  informed  what  it  was  that  principally 
exercised  such  a  blessed  and  transforming  influence  on  the  heart 
of  this  individual,  who,  as  may  be  inferred  from  the  Gospel  nar- 
rative, had  joined,  shortly  before,  in  the  raillery  against  Jesus. 
It  might  have  been  the  Lord's  words,  uttered  on  the  way, 
"  Weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves  and  your  children  ;'' 
or,  "  If  these  things  are  done  in  the  Green  Tree,  what  will  be 
done  in  the  dry  ?"  And  if  not,  yet  infallibly  his  heart-affecting 
prayer  for  his  murderers,  and,  generally  speaking,  the  full  splen- 
dor of  dignity  and  holiness  in  which  he  shone.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  the  change  which  was  wrought  in  the  soul  of  the  poor 
criminal,  was  evidently  thorough  and  decisive,  and  appears,  as 
the  commencement,  at  least,  of  a  complete  regeneration  and 
renewing  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

There  he  hangs  silently  on  the  cross;  but  every  featuie  in  his 
face,  which  is  turned  toward  the  Divine  Sufferer,  unfolds  and 
displays  to  us  the  world  within  him.  We  clearly  see  how  the 
evil  spirits  have  departed  from  him,  and  a  solemn  train  of  holy 


392  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

thoughts  and  emotions  passes  through  his  soul.  The  taunting 
attack  of  his  companion  in  tribulation  on  Jesus's  left,  loosens  his 
tongue,  wlii  ii  had  been  silent  from  contrition  and  reverence. 
He  feels  compelled  to  object  against  being  included  in  the 
blasphemous  appeal,  "If  thou  be  the  Christ,  save  us!"  He  is 
constrained  to  renounce  all  participation  in  such  insulting 
language.  He  knows  the  importance  as  well  as  the  awfulness 
of  the  moment,  which  places  an  opening  eternity  before  him, 
and  feels  no  longer  any  fellowship  with  his  companion  in  crime, 
as  regards  the  man  who  is  crowned  with  thorns.  He  has  seen 
enough  in  the  dignified  individual,  and  has  heard  enough  from 
him  to  be  able  to  say  to  himself,  "  If  this  is  not  the  promised 
consolation  of  Israel — that  consolation  will  never  arrive."  He 
perceives  in  him,  not  only  the  bright  mirror  of  Ins  own 
degradation,  but  the  only  and  final  anchorage  for  his  hopes. 

The  horror  which  seizes  him  at  the  impious  words  of  his 
fellow-sufferer  is  indescribable;  and  while  judging  him — to 
which  he  was  entitled  by  first  condemning  himself — he. begins 
to  say  to  him,  "  Dost  thou  not  fear  God,  seeing  thou  art  in  the 
same  condemnation  ?"  Ah,  he  himself  trembled  at  the  thought 
of  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead !  The  meaning  of  his  words  is 
as  follows:  "And  thou,  who  like  myself,  art  weltering  in  thy 
blood,  and  so  near  eternity,  dost  thou  not  fear  God,  who  is  a 
consuming  fire  to  sinners,  and  who,  as  certainly  as  he  will 
justify  this  righteous  man,  must  pronounce  his  curse  upon  those, 
who,  like  thee,  dare  to  rail  at  him.  Be  not  deceived ;  God  does 
not  let  himself  be  mocked." 

0  how  moving  and  heart-affecting  is  this  call  to  repentance 
from  one  delinquent  to  another !  But  hear  him  further :  "  And 
we  indeed  justly,  for  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our  deeds  I" 
O  hear  this  language  of  sincere  abasement  before  the  majesty  of 
the  law!  Listen  to  this  self-accusation,  in  which,  as  far  as 
regards  criminality,  he  places  himself  on  the  same  footing  with 
the  other  malefactor !  Certainly,  where  such  language  is  heard, 
heaven  prepares  to  hang  out  the  white  flag.  And  let  no  one 
suppose  that  there  is  any  thing  dishonorable  in  it.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  the  language  of  manly  self-deliverance  from  the 
net  of  delusion — of    'ourageous  homage  offered  to  truth — and  of 


THE    MALEFACTOR.  393 

a  resolute  return  from  the  way  of  darkness  to  that  of  light  and 
salvation.  One  of  the  most  cunning  artifices  of  the  prince  of  this 
world,  by  which  he  is  able  to  bind  his  victim  to  his  standard, 
consisted,  from  ancient  times,  in  endeavoring  to  represent 
repentance  to  mankind  as  something  unworthy,  degrading,  and 
effeminate.  In  our  view,  on  the  contrary,  nothing  is  more 
contemptible  than  intentionally  to  avoid  the  mirror,  which 
shows  us  things  as  they  are,  and  to  find  comfort  on  the  couch  of 
a  miserable  self-deception. 

But  let  us  listen  further  to  the  malefactor.  u  But  this  man," 
continues  he,  "has  done  nothing  amiss."  What  a  fresh  and 
pleasing  testimony  this  is  to  the  innocence  of  Jesus.  0  how 
evident  it  must  have  been  from  the  Saviour's  whole  deportment, 
that,  as  the  apostle  says,  "  He  knew  no  sin."  From  all  the 
clouds  of  ignominy  and  accusation  with  which  hell  blasphemingly 
covered  him,  the  light  of  his  divine  spotlessness  and  beauty 
shone  so  victoriously  forth,  that  the  blindest  shrunk  back 
from  it  in  amazement;  and  every  moment  his  well-known 
prediction  was  almost  literally  verified,  "  If  these  should  hold 
their  peace,  the  very  stones  would  cry  hosanna !" 

But  let  us  hear  him  further.  Something  really  astonishing 
now  succeeds.  The  work  of  grace  in  the  heart  of  the  malefactor 
throws  off  its  last  vail.  Who  would  have  expected  that  we 
should  have  witnessed  any  thing  of  the  kind  on  that  awful  hill ! 
After  the  malefactor  had  rebuked  his  blaspheming  fellow- 
sufferer,  and  impressed  the  one  thing  needful  so  humbly,  kindly, 
urgently,  and  seriously  upon  him,  he  turns  his  face  again  to  him, 
who  increasingly  became  his  only  hope  and  the  object  of  his 
affection,  and  says  to  him,  as  unpresumingly  and  humbly  as 
devoutly  and  confidently,  "  Lord,  remember  me  when  thou 
comest  into  thy  kingdom." 

We  are  surprised;  we  can  scarcely  believe  our  ears.  What 
fession,  and  at  such  a  time  and  under  such  circumstances, 
fiom  the  lips  of  such  a  man!  Here  is  divine  illumination  in 
midnight  darkness.  Even  the  enlightenment  of  an  apostle 
scarcely  reaches  to  this  malefactor's  height  of  faith.  "Lord," 
says  he,  not  Rabbi,  not  teacher,  or  master,  no,  in  the  word 
"  Kyrie,"  he  applies  to  him  the  title  of  Majesty.     By  this  expres- 

17* 


394  THE   MOST    HOLY    PLACE. 

sion  he  brings  out  of  the  appearance  of  a  worm  that  is  trodden 
upon,  the  heavenly  King  of  Glory.  "However  deeply  thou 
mayest  be  concealed,"  is  his  meaning,  "  in  ignominy  and  misery, 
I  still  recognize  thee.  Thou  art  more,  infinitely  more  than  all 
the  human  race.  Thou  art  not  of  the  earth;  thou  earnest  from 
above.  "  Remember  me,"  continues  he,  with  a  boundless  reliance 
and  confident  childlike  supplication.  0  how  much  is  implied 
in  this  ejaculation !  It  is  the  expression  of  the  most  vital  con- 
viction of  the  existence  of  a  future  world  ;  for  it  is  not  help  from 
the  bodily  distress  in  which  he  languishes ;  but  the  mal<  I 
desires  something  very  different  and  superior.  It  is,  further, 
a  loud-  testimony  to  the  necessity  of  a  mediation,  if  sinners  are 
to  be  saved.  "Intercede  for  me;"  he  means  to  say,  "speak  a 
kind  word  for  me  a  sinner;  put  in  a  word  of  entreaty  on  my 
behalf."  Yes,  it  is  a  frank  confession  that  the  man  in  the  crown 
of  thorns  is  the  Mediator,  and  therefore  he  flees  to  him  with 
the  confidence  that  his  intercession  with  the  Father,  and  that 
only,  can  save  him  from  eternal  death. 

To  the  supplication  contained  in  the  words  "  Remember  me," 
the  malefactor  adds,  "when  thou  comest  in  (not  into)  thy 
kingdom."  What  does  he  mean  by  this?  Does  he  mean, 
"  Thy  undertaking  has  not  failed.  Die,  and  from  thy  prison 
of  death  thou  shalt  again  come  forth  triumphant  ?  Thy  kingdom 
shall  come,  and  thy  throne  exist  forever  ?"  Certainly,  he  means 
nothing  else.  He  intends  to  say,  "  To  thee  belongs  the  world ; 
the  banner  of  thy  peaceful  kingdom  will  wave  from  pole  to  pole. 
When  thou  shalt  have  established  thy  throne,  then  grant  that 
I,  a  poor  criminal,  may  be  received  among  the  meanest  of  thy 
servants." 

What  a  herald  of  Christ  in  the  midnight  darkness  of  the 
crucifixion!  What  a  bright  and  guiding  star  for  all  who  seek 
haven  of  rest  on  the  stormy  sea  of  life !  We  feel  astonished 
at  the  great  and  penetrating  faith  of  this  malefactor.  But  here 
convince  yourselves  anew  how  rapidly  the  profoundest  mysteries 
of  heaven  display  themselves  to  the  awakened  feeling  of  the 
need  of  salvation.  0  if  thou  ever  becomest  powerfully  con- 
scious of  thy  estrangement  from  God,  and  dost  feel  that  thou 
needest  nothing  so  much  as  mercy,  truly  the  spirit  of  illumina- 


\ 


THE   MALEFACTOR.  395 

tion  from  above  would  soon  descend  upon  thee,  and,  elevated 
above  every  doubt,  thou  wouldest  be  aware  that  in  the  Gospel 
and  its  plan  of  salvation,  there  is  not  only  wisdom,  connection, 
and  divine  reason,  but  also  that  it  is  the  only  conceivable  way 
of  escape  for  beings  who,  whatever  else  they  may  disbelieve,  are 
unable  to  deny  that  they  are  debtors  to  the  law,  and  come  short 
of  the  glory  of  God.  Yes,  we  should  then  soon  hear  from  thy 
lips  the  words  "Lord,  remember  me  in  thy  kingdom!"  which 
equally  point  out  to  the  king  upon  his  throne,  the  virtuous 
moralist  in  his  civic  crown,  to  the  beggar  on  the  highway,  and 
the  outlawed  convict  in  fetters,  the  watchword  by  which  aloue 
the  keepers  of  heaven's  gates  will  bow  the  sword  before  them. 

The  malefactor  has  spoken.  Now  listen  to  the  Lord's  reply. 
It  will  reveal  something  very  astonishing.  The  high  and  lofty 
One,  whom  the  criminal  discovered  beneath  the  thorn-crowned 
bleeding  form  by  his  side  now  comes  actually  forth  in  his  glory. 
Calvary  .becomes  a  palace,  the  cross  a  throne  of  the  Judge  of  all 
worlds.  The  man  in  the  crown  of  thorns  accepts  the  prayer 
which  the  poor  criminal  addressed  to  him,  and  impresses  the 
confirming  seal  upon  his  distinguished  faith.  There  is  no  rejec- 
tion, as  if  he  were  mistaken  in  his  hopes — no  reproof,  as  if  he 
were  an  enthusiast  and  expected  too  much  from  him,  but  rather 
an  encouragement  to  hope  still  more  boldly,  since  he  was  not 
mistaken  in  him.  With  the  full  conviction  of  being  the  only- 
begotten  Son  of  the  Father,  which  he  was,  as  well  as  the  true 
and  only  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  the  Lord  says,  turn- 
ing to  the  malefactor  with  a  look  full  of  grace  and  mercy,  and 
loud  enough  for  those  who  stood  around  him  to  hear,  "  Yerily,  I 
say  unto  thee,  to-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise." 

Here  you  have  the  great  and  majestic  words,  which,  if  they 
were  the  only  testimony  which  Jesus  had  given  of  himself, 
would  forever  decide  the  question  who  he  was — the  words, 
which,  bursting  the  bonds  of  death,  and  opening  a  heaven  of 
consolation,  have  sounded  like  a  peaceful  chord  of  paradise  in 
the  ears  of  millions  on  their  dying  beds;  and  may  they  also 
sound  in  our  ears  when  our  feet  tread  the  gloomy  vale! — the 
words,  which  comprehend  the  whole  result  of  the  sufferings  and 
death   of    Christ,    the   Bridegroom   of    our   souls.      They   hover 


396  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

around  us  with  their  olissful  harmony,  and  seek  our  hearts,  in 
order  to  convey  to  them  something  of  heaven.  0  attend  well  to 
these  words!  They  are  the  most  precious  boon  which  Christ 
has  thrown  into  our  lap  from  his  cross. 

Let  every  syllable  of  them  be  well  weighed  by  us.  "  Verily," 
says  our  Lord  at  the  commencement,  and  this  is  the  confirma- 
tion of  his  words.  How  important  is  this  assertion,  uttered  by 
such  a  mouth,  at  such  a  time,  when  on  the  threshold  of  eternity ! 
How  suited  to  dispel  all  our  doubts.  Unspeakably  elevating  is 
the  consciousness  of  the  fullness  of  confidence  and  certainty  mani- 
fested in  our  Lord's  speeeh  to  the  dying  criminal.  The  fact  is 
firm  as  a  rock,  that  he  is  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life — im- 
mutably firm ;  that  he  bears  the  keys  of  hell  and  of  death ;  that 
he  will  conduct  the  penitent  sinner  through  the  night  of  death 
into  eternal  life,  and  that  life  a  blissful  one  in  paradise;  and 
how  greatly  does  this  his  own  assurance  tend  to  confirm  and 
animate  our  faith  in  him ! 

That  which  so  highly  ravishes  us  in  his  words,  next  to  his 
confidence,  is  the  repetition  of  tne  poor  criminal's  request  in  a 
superior  degree.  To  his  appellation  of  "Lord!"  the  thorn- 
crowned  Jesus  replies  with  the  words,  "  I  say  unto  thee."  And 
what  else  does  this  imply,  but  "  I  am  so ;  thou  art  not  mistaken 
in  me.  Thou  canst  not  think  too  highly  of  me."  Upon  the 
petition,  "  Remember  me,"  follows  the  Lord's  words,  "  Thou 
shalt  be  with  me" — that  is,  "I  shall  not  need  first  to  think  of 
thee ;"  for  we  think  not  of  those  who  are  present,  but  of  those 
who  are  absent.  The  period  indicated  by  the  word  "  when,"  the 
Lord  responds  to  by  the  assertion,  u  this  day" — not  at  some  dis- 
tant period,  but  this  day  shall  be  the  happy  day  of  thy  deliver- 
ance and  redemption.  To  the  criminal's  appeal,  "when  thou 
comest  in  thy  kingdom,  or  appearesf  in  thy  regal  glory,"  the 
Lord  replies :  "  I  am  a  king  already.  I  will  take  thee  with  me 
into  paradise.  With  this  bleeding  hand  will  I  open  to  thee  the 
gates  of  the  world  of  blessedness." 

The  words  addressed  by  the  illustrious  Sufferer  to  the  male- 
factor, produce,  lastly,  such  a  beneficial  effect  upon  us,  because 
they  bear  in  them  an  infallible  testimony  to  the  perfection  and 
all-sufficiency  of  the   redemption  accomplished  by  him  for  us. 


THE   MALEFACTOR.  397 

For  on  what  ground  is  it  that  Jesus  so  confidently  promises 
instead  of  the  curse,  salvation  to  a  sinner,  on  whom,  according 
to  the  divine  statutes,  the  curse  of  the  law  ought  to  be  inflicted  ? 
Not  upon  the  ground  of  a  voluntary  divine  amnesty,  which 
would  never  coincide  with  the  nature  of  a  perfect  God.  Not  on 
that  of  a  presupposed  weak-minded  paternal  love  of  God,  before 
whose  eyes  the  difference  between  the  just  and  the  unjust  at 
length  vanished,  and  which  would  be  compelled  to  erect  its 
tlirone  upon  the  ruins  of  holiness,  justice,  and  truth ;  he  promises 
paradise  solely  on  the  ground  of  his  ever-valid  work  of  mediation 
and  atonement. 

The  three  crosses  on  Calvary  present  to  us  a  very  important 
subject  for  consideration.  They  afford  us  an  image  of  the  world. 
Christ  in  its  midst ;  but  to  the  one  he  is  set  for  the  rising,  and 
for  the  falling  of  the  other — a  savor  of  life  unto  life  to  the  one, 
and  of  death  unto  death  to  the  other.  The  tender-mercy  of 
Jesus  there  celebrates  its  triumph,  and  appears  in  the  radiance 
of  glorification.  You  behold  a  sinner  on  his  right  hand  and  an- 
other on  his  left ;  but  he  is  so  little  ashamed  of  their  society  that 
on  the  contrary,  he  then  feels  in  his  element  and  at  home,  be- 
cause he  can  there  exhibit  his  love  to  man — there  heal  and 
save. 

You  see  in  the  three  crosses,  further,  an  actual  exposition  of 
the  Saviour's  words,  "I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life." 
For  who  is  it  that  serves  the  malefactor  on  his  right,  in  opposi- 
tion to  his  fellow-sufferer  on  the  left,  as  a  bridge  on  which  he 
may  pass  from  a  state  of  curse  to  that  of  grace  ?  Who  is  it  that 
enlightens  him,  and  in  some  degree  the  companion  of  his  fate, 
not  less  by  his  mere  appearance,  than  by  that  marvelous  light, 
whose  ra3's  penetrate  into  his  inmost  soul,  and  expel  all  the 
phantoms  of  delusion  from  him?  And  lastly,  who  is  it  that 
takes  from  his  bosom  the  consciousness  of  a  state  of  death,  and 
replaces  it  with  the  most  blissful  and  vital  hope  ? — yea,  that  im- 
parts to  his  soul,  even  on  this  side  eternity,  a  new  life  of  | 
supernatural  joy,  divine  consciousness  of  adoption,  and  the 
heartfelt  longing  after  heaven?  Is  it  not  the  thorn-crowned 
Sufferer  there  who  is  the  author  of  it  all  ? 

Finally,  the  scene  on  Calvary  affords  us  a  representation   of 


398  THE  MOST  nOLY  PLACE. 

the  boundless  power  and  wonderful  efficacy  of  the  merits  of  our 
great  High  Priest.  For  even  as  the  word  "to-day,"  in  our 
Lord's  announcement,  represents  all  future  purging  and  purify- 
ing fires  as  forever  extinguished  in  his  blood,  as  regards  his 
believing  people — so  the  expression,  "  This  day  shalt  thou  be 
with  me  in  paradise" — whether  by  the  word  be  understood 
heaven  itself,  or  only  an  outer  court  of  heaven,  affords  us  a 
stupendous  proof  that  Christ's  vicarious  satisfaction  perfectly 
suffices  for  the  sinner's  justification  and  beatification.  Certainly, 
we  must  duly  observe  that  the  malefactor  was  in  a  state  of  true 
and  thorough  repentance,  and  that  after  breaking  with  sin  by 
penitential  grief,  and  opening  his  heart  to  Jesus  by  a  living 
faith,  he  had  received  into  himself  all  the  germs  of  a  subsequent 
sanctification — germs  which  immediately  began  to  unfold  them- 
selves in  the  compassionate  love  in  which  he  took  to  heart  the 
critical  state  of  his  companion  in  crime.  But  it  was  not  for  the 
sake  of  these  germs  of  future  virtues,  which  naturally  could 
offer  no  recompense  for  a  perfect  obedience  of  the  law,  that  the 
malefactor  was  justified  before  the  divine  tribunal ;  but  he  re- 
ceived the  divine  absolution  in  the  righteousness  of  his  Surety 
impute^  to  him,  which  does  not  less  commend  incipient  saints 
to  the  eyes  of  the  Judge  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  than  those 
.already  perfected. 

Anticipate,  my  friends,  the  next  few  moments,  and  what  do 
you  see  occur  above  the  summit  of  Calvary?  The  three  who 
were  crucified  bow  their  heads,  and  the  great  separation  is  ac- 
complished, Alas !  he  on  Jesus's  left  descends  also  to  the  left ; 
and  the  powers  of  darkness  will  have  joyfully  welcomed  him 
who,  even  in  death,  could  insult  the  Lord  of  Glory,  as  one  of 
their  most  faithful  and  consistent  instruments.  The  criminal  to 
the  right,  on  the  contrary,  soars  heavenward,  at  the  side  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  and,  received  into  his  triumphal  chariot,  passes, 
amid  the  acclamations  of  angels,  through  the  gates  of  paradise, 
no  longer  guarded  by  the  cherub's  flaming  sword.  He  was  the 
first  herald  who,  by  his  appearing  there,  brought  the  glorified 
spirits  the  intelligence  that  Christ  had  won  the  great  battle  of 
our  deliverance.  As  the  first-fruits  of  the  sufferings  of  the 
Divine  Surety,  as  well  as  of  the  blissful  human  harvest  which 


THE   LEGACY    OF   LOVE.  399 

should  spring  up  from  the  wondrous  seed  of  his  blood,  he  may 
still  be  especially  embraced  by  the  worshipers  of  the  Lamb,  in 
the  realms  above,  as  a  particularly  dear  citizen  of  the  heavenly 
kingdom.  To  us  he  remains  both  an  incomparable  monument  of 
the  all-sufficiency  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  a  lofty  candlestick,  on 
which  the  free  grace  of  God  beams  as  a  flame,  and  an  extremely 
significant  beacon,  yea,  a  light-house  established  by  God  for  us 
on  our  passage  through  life.  0,  be  assured,  my  readers,  that  the 
spiritual  footsteps  of  the  dying  malefactor,  with  the  words,  "  Re- 
member me!"  on  his  lips,  point  out  to  us  to  this  day,  the  only 
path  that  leads  to  Zion.  Let  us,  therefore,  follow  him,  and  make 
his  "  Remember  me !"  our  own,  and  then  say  under  the  cross  of 
the  bleeding  Friend  of  Sinners,  as  heartily  in  faith,  as  poor  in 
spirit,  in  the  sense  of  the  malefactor, 

"  When  to  the  cross  I  turn  my  eyes, 
And  rest  on  Calvary, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  my  sacrifice ! 
I  must  remember  thee. 

"  And  when  these  failing  lips  grow  dumb, 
And  mind  and  memory  flee, 
"When  thou  shalt  in  thy  kingdom  come, 
Jesus,  remember  me!" 


XLYI. 

THE  LEGACY  OF  LOYE. 

Ocr  present  meditation  brings  us  again  to  the  cross  on  Calvary. 
And  where,  my  readers,  do  we  linger  more  willingly  than  be- 
neath its  shade?  Every  day  the  desires  of  our  hearts  resort 
thither  for  the  supply  of  our  soul's  necessities.  For  since  we 
have   daily  to  lament  over   our  negligences  and  daily 

require  fresh  balm  fur  our  wounded   consciences.     What  would 
become  of  us  had  we  not  Calvary  to  flee  to  ?     0,  thou  art  the 


400  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

Ararat  to  which  I  daily  escape  from  the  waves  of  trouble ;  the 
Zoar  to  which  I  flee  from  the  flames  of  Sodom ;  my  Nebo'a 
top,  from  whence  I  survey  the  promised  land;  and  my  Tabor, 
where  I  rejoice  and  say,  "  It  is  good  to  be  here — here  will 
we  erect  our  habitations." 

A  pleasing  scene  presents  itself  to  our  view  beneath  the  cross. 
He  who  was  "fairer  than  the  children  of  men"  does  not  die 
unlamented.  In  the  midst  of  rage  and  fury,  love  stands  near 
him  in  his  dying  moments,  and  lifts  up  to  him  its  tearful  and 
affectionate  eye.  Look  at  the  little  mournful  group  yonder,  and 
behold  a  lovely  little  company  in  the  midst  of  the  bands  ot 
Belial — a  hidden  rosebud  under  wild  and  tangled  bramble- 
bushes,  a  splendid  wreath  of  lilies  around  the  deathbed  of  the 
Redeemer. 

It  is  thus  that  the  cross  is  surrounded  even  to  this  day. 
Though  the  infuriated  hosts  of  hell  rage  around  it,  yet  it  is  still 
encircled  by  the  most  estimable  of  the  earth.  For  if  we  seek  for 
sacred  grief,  for  love  which  has  emanated  from  heaven,  for 
patience,  which  never  tires,  and  gratitude,  which  gives  up  every 
thing — where  do  these  beautiful  arid  heavenly  flowers  flourish 
except  beneath  the  cross?  We  know  the  faithful  company 
there,  who  form  a  living  commentary  on  the  words  of  the  Song 
of  songs,  "Love  is  strong  as  death,  aud  immovable  as  the 
grave ;  the  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire,  which  hath  a  most 
vehement  flame.  Many  waters  can  not  quench  love,  neither  can 
the  floods  drown  it."  What  do  they  care  about  hazarding  their 
lives!  Their  life  was  the  man  on  the  cross.  What  do  they 
trouble  themselves  about  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  the  word ! 
They  desire  nothing  else  and  nothing  better  from  a  world  which 
crowned  their  King  with  thorns.  Had  they  been  nailed  to  the 
cross  with  him,  they  would  have  pushed  away  the  earth  from 
under  them  as  a  rotten  and  worthless  plank,  and  have  triumpn- 
antly  cast  their  anchor  in  the  clouds.  What  charms  could  earth 
have  for  them,  after  his  blessed  steps  ceased  to  tread  upon  its 
thorny  and  thirsty  soil  ? 

Look  at  the  courageous  group  a  little  more  closely.  Of  whom 
does  it  consist?  Strange  enough,  with  one  exception,  aUjof. 
them   are  females.      The   strong   are    fled— the   weak  maintain 


THE   LEGACY    OP   LOVE.  401 

their  ground;  the  heroes  despair — the  timid,  wno  did  not  pre- 
sume to  promise  any  thing,  overcome  the  world.  This  was  be- 
cause they  poured  out  their  hearts  before  God,  saying,  "  Hold 
thou  us  up,  and  we  shall  be  safel"  and  speaking  thus,  they 
leaned  firmly  on  the  divine  arm.  God's  strength  was  then 
mighty  in  their  weakness.  How  often  does  something  of  a 
similar  kind  occur  among  us!  If  the  man's  is  the  splendid 
deed,  the  result  of  combined  strength — the  woman's  is  enduring 
patience.  If  to  the  former  belongs  the  heroism  which  cuts  the 
knot — to  the  latter  (winch  is  the  greater  of  the  two)  belongs  the 
silent  self-sacrificing  love  which  is  faithful  even  unto  death. 

Among  the  beloved  females  beneath  the  cross,  there  is  one 
who  especially  demands  our  sympathy.  It  is  the  blessed  one, 
who  bore  in  her  womb  the  man  that  -bleeds  on  the  cross — 
the  deeply  stricken  Mary.  Though  it  was  grievous  for  Eve 
to  stand  at  the  grave  of- her  favorite  son  Abel,  and  still  more 
so  for  the  patriarch  Jacob  to  behold  the  bloody  garment  of  his 
son  Joseph,  yet  what  was  their  grief  compared  with  that  of  the 
mother  of  our  Lord  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  ?  0  think  where  she 
is  standing,  what  is  the  cause  of  her  grief,  and  who  it  is  she 
mourns!  Think  what  a  son,  and  what  a  kind  of  death!  0 
who  is  able  to  describe  the  feelings  which  wring  her  maternal 
heart!  One  thing,  however,  we  may  be  assured  of,  that  the 
deeply  wounded  Mary  did  not  despair.  Even  through  this 
her  night  of  weeping,  the  words  of  her  Son,  respecting  the 
necessity  of  the  sufferings  that  awaited  him,  and  the  glory  that 
should  follow,  gleamed  like  some  distant  light.  And  although  it 
was  most  difficult  for  her  still  to  cleave  firmly  to  them,  and 
though  an  impetuous  host  of  distressing  doubts  raged  in  Mary's 
breast,  yet  she  was  not  inconsolable,  nor  did  she  give  up  all  for 
lost,  as  surely  as  the  assertion  of  the  apostle  is  true,  tlmt  God 
will  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted  above  that  which  we  are  able  to 
bear.  No;  whenever  the  gold  is  in  the  crucible,  the  Eefiner 
himself  is  at  hand ;  and  when  a  child  of  the  Most  High  suffers, 
the  paternal  hand  of  Jehovah  always  lies,  alleviating  and  miti- 
gating, between  the  burden  and  the  burdened  shoulder.  If  we 
thus  experience  it,  my  readers,  how  will  Mary  have  experienced 
it! 


402  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

You  also  see,  that  although  leaning  on  the  disciple  whom 
Jesus  loved,  she  still  stands  upright  under  the  cross,  and  only  a 
gentle  shower  of  tears  bedews  her  cheeks,  but  no  cry  of  agony 
proceeds  from  her  lips.  When  the  wife  of  Phineas  saw  the  ark 
in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  she  fell  dead  upon  the  ground  in  dire 
dismay.  Mary  beholds  something  more  appalling  than  that 
event,  yet  still  she  lives.  She  is  indeed  compelled  again  to 
bring  forth  Christ  with  great  travail.  Her  earthly  son  dies, 
with  all  the  earthly  connection  in  which  she  had  hiterto  stood 
toward  him,  as  well  as  the  earthly  ideas  of  him  and  his  king- 
dom, so  far  as  she  had  yielded  to  them.  In  opposition  to  these, 
she  has  now  to  receive  Christ  by  faith,  as  from  his  ashes,  in  a 
very  different  capacity — as  a  new  Christ — as  one  hitherto  not 
known  by  her — as  a  3Jord  and  Prince  of  Peace  of  an  incom- 
parably higher  kind  and  order  than  human ;  nor  did  she  attain  to 
this  without  great  pain  and  conflict. 

At  Mary's  side,  and  serving  as  her  support,  the  Apostle  John 
meets  our  eye.  This  "  divine  eagle"  also  tries  the  pinions  of 
his  penetrating  spirit  in  the  darkness  and  the  storm  on  Calvary, 
but  he  is  unable  to  find  the  way  through  this  thunder-cloud.  He 
sees  himself  surrounded  by  problems  which  he  is  unable  to  solve. 
But  where  his  understanding  beholds  only  an  empty  desert,  he 
has,  nevertheless,  an  inward  presentiment  of  infinite  and  hidden 
riches.  He  again  introduces  himself  here,  as  he  is  so  gladly 
wont  to  do,  as  "the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved."  In  these 
words  he  indicates  to  us  what  was  Ins  pride,  his  crown,  and  his 
highest  boast.  At  the  same  time,  they  point  out  to  us  the 
source  from  whence  he  derived  all  his  consolation,  all  his  hope, 
and  all  his  strength.  This  source  was  love — not  the  love  with 
which  he  embraced  the  Lord,  but  that  with  which  the  Lord  em- 
braced him.  Nor  do  I  know  any  thing  more  precious  or  desir- 
able, than  the  lively,  fresh,  and  well-founded  consciousness  of  the 
Saviour's  love  and  affection.  What  a  peaceful  resting-place  is  this 
in  the  wild  nocturnal  storm !  What  a  powerful  staff  and  support 
for  a  wanderer  in  the  wilderness !  What  sweet  consolation  in 
"the  pit  where  there  is  no  water;"  and  what  an  overflowing 
spring  of  encouragement  in  life  and  death!  He  who,  with 
John,  can  sign  himself  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loves,  has,  in 


THE   LEGACY    OF   LOYE.  403 

this  appellation,  a  sure  guaranty  for  all  that  he  needs,  and  for 
all  that  his  heart  )an  desire.  If,  in  other  respects,  he  must  call 
himself  the  man  ihat  is  tossed  with  tempest,  or  the  wretched 
worm  which  the  world  treads  under  foot ;  yet,  if  he  is  only 
justified  in  subscribing  himself  "  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loves," 
what  more  will  he  have  ?  This  consciousness  gilds  and  sweetens 
every  thing. 

While  the  little  company  stand  mourning  together  below, 
the  mighty  Sufferer  hangs  silent  and  bleeding  on  the  cross. 
He  is  in  the  sanctuary  performing  his  high-priestly  office, 
while  bearing  upon  his  heart  the  sinful  race  of  Adam.  "  Oh," 
might  the  mourning  Mary  think,  "if  he  would  but  once 
more  open  his  gracious  lips  to  me,  and  give  me  one  parting 
word !"  But  in  the  sublime  situation  he  is  now  occupying,  will 
he  still  be  able  to  attend  to  what  is  passing  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross  ?  Will  he  still  find  time  and  leisure  to  think  of  any  thing 
else  than  how  he  may  arm  and  defend  himself  against  the  fiery 
darts  of  the  wicked  one  which  fly  around  him,  and  how  he 
may  complete  the  great  and  world-embracing  work,  on  the  last 
stage  of  which  he  has  just  entered !  Scarcely  should  we  think 
it  possible.  But  what  occurs  ?  0  when  did  any  thing  happen 
more  generous  and  affecting  than  this?  Truly,  till  the  end  of 
time  his  filial  tenderness  will  be  spoken  of.  In  the  midst  of  his 
dying  agonies  the  Divine  sufferer  all  at  once  directs  his  eyes  to 
the  little  faithful  group  below;  and  he  that  is  able  to  read  in 
his  eyes,  reads  a  sympathy  and  a  degree  of  consoling,  cheering, 
and  encouraging  love,  such  as  the  world,  till  then,  bad  never 
beheld.  No,  my  friends ;  however  much  he  may  have  to  think 
of  and  attend  to,  he  never  loses  sight  of  his  children  for  a 
moment  from  the  sphere  of  his  superintending  care.  Bowever 
great  and  boundless  may  be  the  objects  of  his  supervision  and 
vigilance  in  his  government,  yet  there  will  never  be  a  moment 
when  the  eye  of  his  love  will  not  rest  upon  every  individual 
whom  the  Father  has  given  him.  They  are  his  primary  care, 
although  in  number  and  outward  appearance,  in  comparison 
with  w.iat  he  has  otherwise  to  superintend  and  provide  for,  they 
may  be  as  the  drops  in  the  wide  rolling  ocean,  and  as  flowerets 
in  the  immense  and  gloomy  forest  in  which  they  stand.     He  dis- 


404  THE   MOST    HOLY   PLACE. 

covers  the  scattered  solitary  flowers  in  the  wood,  in  order  that  he 
may  tend,  bedew,  and  adorn  his  bosom  with  them. 

The  Lord  first  fixes  his  eyes  on  his  beloved  and  sorely-tried 
mother.  By  means  of  the  words  he  had  spoken  to  the  male- 
factor, respecting  being  with  him  that  day  in  paradise,  he  had 
elevated  her  looks  and  thoughts  above  death  and  the  grave. 
Yet  still  she  would  have  to  remain  for  a  season  alone  m 
the  world,  which  had  now  become  so  desolate  to  her,  and 
lo !  for  this  consideration,  the  Man  of  Sorrows  on  the  cross  still 
finds  room  in  his  heart,  amid  his  anxieties  for  the  world's 
redemption.  He  looks,  in  the  kindest  manner,  at  the  weeping 
Mary,  opens  his  mouth,  and  says — not  in  effeminate  weak- 
ness, but  in  sublime  tranquillity,  self-possession,  and  serenity, 
referring  to  the  disciple  on  whom  his  mother  was  leaning, 
"Woman,  behold  thy  son!"  and  then  to  John,  "Behold  thy 
mother !" 

Though  the  words  are  few,  yet  who  is  able  to  exhaust  the 
fullness  of  tender  affection  which  is  poured  into  them?  How 
consoling  must  it  have  been  to  Mary's  grieved  heart,  the  almost 
cheerful  manner  in  which  her  dying  Son  made  his  last  bequest 
The  sound  of  his  voice,  and  the  peaceful  look  which  accom- 
panied his  words,  were  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Mary,  thy  Son  is 
not  lost.  He  is  only  returning  to  his  Father's  happy  abode,  after 
the  fatigues  of  life,  in  order  to  prepare  a  place  for  thee."  And 
then  the  contents  of  the  words  themselves — how  tenderly  did  he 
clothe  in  them  his  last  farewell  to  his  beloved  parent!  How 
delicately  did  he  arrange  it,  that  by  the  hint  given  to  John,  she 
who  had  been  so  severely  tried,  should  not  also  be  a  witness  of  his 
last  and  hardest  struggle !  And  how  providently  does  he  enter, 
at  the  same  time,  into  all,  and  even  the  most  trifling  necessities 
of  his  bereaved  mother  for  the  residue  of  her  life  upon  earth ! 
Truly,  when  was  ever  the  divine  command  to  honor  father  and 
mother  so  deeply  and  comprehensively  fulfilled  as  it  was  on 
Calvary  ? 

It  has  been  considered  strange  that  the  Saviour,  in  speaking 
to  Mary,  should  have  made  use  of  the  distant  word,  "  Woman," 
instead  of  the  tender  name  of  mother.  In  reply  to  this,  it  is 
certainly  true   that  he    did    so,   partly  because   he   would   not 


THE   LEGACY   OF   LOVE.  405 

still  more  deeply  wound  her  bleeding  heart  by  the  sweet  title  of 
mother,  as  well  as  that  he  might  not  excite  within  himself  a 
storm  of  human  emotions;  and  likewise  lest  he  should  expose 
his  mother  to  the  rudeness  of  the  surrounding  crowd.  But  the 
chief  reason  why,  instead  of  the  maternal  title,  he  used  the  more 
general  term  "  Woman,"  or  lady,  lies  much  deeper,  both  in  this, 
and  the  well-known  scene  at  the  marriage  in  Cana.  He  cer- 
tainly meant  his  mother  to  understand  that  henceforward  his 
earthly  connection  with  her  must  give  way  to  a  superior  one. 
As  though  he  had  said,  "  Thou,  my  mother,  wilt  from  this  time 
be  as  one  of  my  daughters,  and  I  thy  Lord.  Thou  believest  in 
me,  and  shalt  be  blessed.  Thou  layest  hold  of  the  hem  of  my 
garment,  and  I  appear  in  thy  stead.  Thou  adorest  me,  and  I 
am  thy  High  Priest  and  King.  Mother,  brother,  and  sister, 
henceforward,  are  all  who  swear  allegiance  to  my  banner.  The 
relationships  according  to  the  flesh  and  the  manner  of  the 
world  have  an  .end ;  other  and  more  spiritual  and  heavenly  take 
their  place." 

It  was  this  that  the  Lord  intended  to  suggest  to  Mary's  mind ; 
and  hence  the  word  "  Woman,"  which  at  first  sounds  strange, 
instead  of  the  more  tender  and  affectionate  term,  "Mother." 
Nay,  it  the  less  became  him  to  call  her  Mother  now,  since  this 
term  in  the  Hebrew,  includes  in  it  the  idea  of  "Mistress," 
while  he  was  just  preparing,  as  the  Lord  of  lords,  to  ascend  the 
throne  of  eternal  majesty.  But  while  endeavoring  to  elevate 
Mary's  mind  above  the  sphere  of  merely  human  conceptions  into 
a  higher  region,  he  does  not  forget  either  that  he  is  her  son,  or 
that  she  is  his  dear  and  sorely-tried  mother ;  and  reflects,  at  the 
same  time,  that  man,  in  his  weakness,  has  need  of  man  •  and  be- 
sides the  heart  of  God  must  possess,  at  least,  one  heart  upon 
earth,  into  winch  he  can  confidingly  pour  out  his  own,  and  upon 
whose  love  and  faithfulness  he  may  firmly  reckon  under  all 
circumstances.  For  these  reasons,  the  Lord  is  desirous,  in  his 
filial  forethought,  and  as  far  as  is  practicable,  to  fill  up  for 
Mary,  even  in  a  human  respect,  the  void  which  his  decease 
would  leave  in  her  life,  and  give  her,  instead  of  himselfj  a  son 
to  assist  her,  even  in  an  earthly  manner,  in  whom  she  might 
place  entire  confidence,  and  on  whose  shoulder  she  could  lean  in 


406  THE  MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

all  her  distresses,  cares,  and  sorrows.  And  in  this  new  son,  he 
bequeaths  to  her  his  favorite  disciple,  the  faithful  and  feeling 
John.  Is  it  not  as  if  he  intended  to  say,  "I  well  know,  my 
Mother,  how  solitary  and  dreary  must  be  a  widow's  path  upon 
earth,  when  the  crown  is  removed  from  her  head.  But  lo !  here 
is  the  disciple  that  lay  in  my  bosom,  and  is  thus  peculiarly  pre- 
pared to  become  thy  support  and  stay.  He  is  ready  to  to  do  all 
I  desire  of  him,  and  since  I  have  neither  silver  nor  gold,  I  be- 
queath thee  all  my  claim  on  this  disciple's  love,  gratitude,  and 
faithfulness.  Let  him  be  thy  son!"  It  was  thus  he  loved  to 
the  end;  thus  delicately  does  he  provide  for  all  the  necessities 
of  those  he  loves.  And  as  he  formerly  did,  so  he  does  still.  He 
is  to  this  hour  the  compassionate  High  Priest.  He  enters  most 
feelingly  into  the  wants  of  those  who  confide  in  Mm,  so  that  every 
one  in  his  station,  whether  they  be  widows,  orphans,  poor  and 
infirm,  or  to  whatever  class  of  the  weary  and  heavy-laden  they 
belong,  they  may  rely,  most  peculiarly,  on  his  providential  care. 

After  saying  to  Mary,  "  Woman,  behold  thy  son !"  he  says  to 
John,  "  Behold  thy  mother !"  0  what  a  proof  does  the  Saviour 
here  give  his  disciple  of  the  affection  and  confidence  which  he 
reposes  in  him  !  He  imposes  a  burden  upon  him,  but  he  knows 
that  John  will  regard  it  as  the  highest  honor  and  felicity  which 
could  be  bestowed  upon  him  on  earth.  Nor  is  the  Saviour 
mistaken  in  his  disciple.  John  understands  his  Master's  wish, 
looks  at  Mary,  and  his  whole  soul  says  to  her,  "  My  Mother  1" 

"  From  that  hour,"  we  are  informed,  "  that  disciple  took  her 
unto  his  own  home."  John  possessed  therefore  a  house  of  his 
own,  doubtless  in  Jerusalem,  which  Mary  did  not.  Joseph  had 
already  fallen  asleep.  We  may  also  infer  from  the  narrative, 
that  Jesus  was  Mary's  only  son.  The  expression,  "  That  disciple 
took  her  into  his  own  home,"  implies,  however,  according  to  the 
original,  much  more  than  that  he  only  took  care  of  her  in  his 
habitation.  He  received  her  into  his  heart,  and  bore  her  thence- 
forward on  his  hands.  It  may  easily  be  supposed  what  love  he 
felt  toward  her  from  that  time,  and  with  what  tenderness  and 
fidelity  he  accompanied  her  through  life.  It  afforded  him 
sepreme  pleasure  to  possess  in  her  an  object,  toward  which  he 
could  in  some  measure  manifest  the  gratitude  and  affection  he 


THE   LEGACY    OF   LOVE.  407 

felt  toward  Him,  to  whom  he  owed  his  salvation.  But  the 
whole  of  the  costly  harvest  of  love,  which  flourished  for  her  Son, 
in  the  heart  of  the  disciple,  under  the  dew  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
was  transferred  to  Mary.  And  because  John's  love  was  in 
reality  no  other  than  a  sacred  spark  from  Jesus's  own  breast, 
Mary  was  beloved  by  John,  as  before,  with  the  love  of  her 
divine  Son. 

"Woman,  behold  thy  Son!"  "John,  behold  thy  mother!" 
O  attend  carefully  to  these  words.  They  contain  nothing  less 
than  the  record  of  the  institution  of  a  new  family  fellowship 
upon  earth.  In  this  fellowship  Christ  is  the  head,  and  all  his 
believing  people  form  unitedly  one  great,  closely-connected 
family.  Begotten  of  the  same  seed,  endued  with  the  same 
spirit,  they  are  all  called  to  one  inheritance,  and  eventually, 
though  now  scattered  abroad  through  the  world,  one  city  with 
shining  walls  will  embrace  them.  They  soon  know  each  other 
by  their  similarity  of  sentiment,  bias,  speech,  and  joyful  hope, 
and  love  each  other  with  one  love — that  love  which  overflowed 
into  them  from  the  heart  of  Christ  their  head.  As  long  as  they 
linger  here  below,  their  habitation  is  under  the  cross,  and  their 
daily  bread  the  word  of  God;  their  breath,  prayer,  and  the 
peace  of  God  the  atmosphere  in  which  they  freely  and  blissfully 
move.  The  inmost  and  most  essential  family  feature  of  this 
spiritual  fraternity  is,  that  self  in  them  is  crucified,  and  Christ  is 
the  center  of  all  their  doing  and  suffering. 

Let  him  who  would  envy  John  the  pleasing  task  of  being  a 
support  to  the  mother  of  Jesus  know,  that  the  way  to  the  same 
honor  lies  open  to  him.  Let  him  reflect  on  a  previous  expres- 
sion of  our  Lord's,  "Who  is  my  mother,  and  who  are  my 
brethren?  and  stretching  forth  his  hand  toward  his  disciples,  he 
said,  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren  1  For  whosoever  shall 
do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my 
mother,  and  sister,  and  brother,"  Matt.  xi'.  48-50. 

If  thou  art  really  desirous  of  the  privilege  enjoyed  by  John, 
thou  now  seest  that  it  may  be  thine.  Be,  from  love  to  the  Lord, 
a  faithful  help  to  his  children ;  feed  the  hungry,  give  drink  to 
him  that  is  thirsty,  and  especially  visit ,  pious  widows  in  their 
loneliness,   and    thou    wilt    perform    a   service,   which   is  well- 


408  .        THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

pleasing  to  him.  Become  feet  to  the  lame,  among  believers, 
eyes  to  the  blind,  the  counselor  and  father  of  the  orphan,  and 
thou  wilt  be  taking  his  place  upon  earth,  as  did  his  disciple  of 
old.  -John  certainly  saw  himself  more  closely  connected  with 
this  life  by  the  new  duty  imposed  upon  him ;  but  thou  seest 
that  this  life  can  give  new  charms  for  thee  also,  in  a  similar 
manner.  Only  apply  to  the  heavenly  Prince  of  Peace  to  open 
thine  eyes  that  thou  mayest  recognize  his  quiet  and  holy  house- 
hold ;  and  even  as  he  will  then  say  to  the  latter,  who  constitute 
his  spiritual  Church,  while  suing  for  their  love  to  thee,  "  Woman, 
behold  thy  Son !"  so  he  will  also  say  to  thee,  with  reference  to 
some  troop  of  weary  and  heavy  laden  beloved  ones,  "Behold 
thy  mother!" 

Yes,  my  friends,  if  a  reformation  is  to  take  place  on  earth, 
and  the  world  to  experience  a  golden  age,  Christianity  alone  can 
produce  it.  For  tell  me,  what  is  wanting  to  make  the  world  a 
kingdom  of  heaven,  if  that  tender,  profound,  and  self-denying 
love  which  we  see  Jesus  practice  and  recommend,  were  para- 
mount in  every  human  heart?  But  the  whole  of  religion  con- 
sists in  this,  that  Christ  be  formed  in  every  individual.  Think 
what  it  would  be  if  every  one  exhibited  a  living  mirror  of  u  the 
fairest  of  the  sons  of  men,"  and  loved  G-od  and  the  brethren  like 
him!  0  really,  the  loftiest  and  most  glorious  idea  of  human 
society  would  then  be  realized.  Be  convinced,  therefore,  that 
you  are  invited  and  allured  by  Jesus,  not  merely  to  be  happy  in 
heaven,  but  that  the  earth  may  again  be  transformed  into  a 
paradise ;  for  you  see  in  John's  case,  that  he  who  casts  himself 
by  living  faith  on  Jesus's  breast,  soon  imbibes  from  thence  his  love 

We  part  from  our  pleasing  narrative ;  but  I  must  previously 
mention  an  event  which  happened  some  years  ago  in  Paris.  A 
society  had  been  formed  there,  the  sittings  of  which  the  most 
celebrated  infidels  of  the  time  used  weekly  to  attend,  in  order, 
as  they  expressed  it,  to  "  discover  the  absurdities  of  the  Bible," 
and  to  make  them  the  object  of  their  ridicule.  But  one  evening, 
when  the  members  were  busy  at  their  work,  and  for  their 
devilish  purpose  had  read  some  portions  of  the  Gospel,  the  well- 
known  philosopher,  Diderot,  who  had  hitherto  been  the  last  and 
the  least  voluble  of  the  blasphemers,   suddenly  began  to  say 


TIIE   LEGACY   OF   LOVE.  409 

with  a  gravity  which  was  not  customary  with  him,  u  However 
it  may  be  with  this  book,,  gentlemen,  I  freely  confess,  on  behalf 
of  the  truth,  that  I  know  no  one,  neither  in  France,  nor  in  the 
whole  world,  who  is  able  to  speak  and  write  with  more  tact  and 
talent  than  the  fishermen  and  publicans  who  have  written  these 
narratives.  I  venture  to  assert,  that  none  of  us  is  capable  of 
writing,  even  approximately,  a  tale,  which  is  so  simple,  and  at 
the  same  time  so  sublime,  so  lively  and  affecting,  and  of  such 
powerful  influence  on  the  mind,  and  possessing  such  unweakened 
and  pervading  effect  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  as  each  individ- 
ual account  of  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the 
book  before  us." 

He  ceased,  and  all  at  once,  instead  of  the  laughter  which 
shortly  before  had  rung  through  the  hall,  a  general  and  pro- 
found silence  ensued.  The  truth  of  the  speech  was  felt,  and 
perhaps  even  something  more.  The  company  silently  broke  up, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  the  entire  society  of  scoffers  was  dis- 
solved. And  tell  me,  my  readers,  if  you  have  not  felt  at  the 
little  scene  we  have  been  contemplating,  something  similar  tc 
what  the  infidel  Frenchman  felt.  Yes,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  which  bears  in  its  front  the  stamp  of  such  lively  historical 
truth  as  the  Gospel;  and  whatever  there  may  be  of  beautiful 
upon  earth,  he  that  has  eyes  to  see,  must  confess",  that  the  most 
beautiful,  venerable,  and  holy  is,  and  will  ever  be,  the  Gospel 
history. 

Let  us  then  ever  bear  in  mind  the  pleasing  exhibition  of 
Jesus's  love  instituting  love  on  the  cross,  which  we  have  now 
been  contemplating ;  and  may  it  enable  us  to  form  those  super- 
natural bonds  of  union  and  fellowship,  which  will  survive  both 
time  and  death.  Let  this  exhibition  continually  remind  us  of 
the  first  and  most  glorious  lesson  of  our  lives,  that  of  loving  the 
Lord  Jesus  in  his  people,  and  urge  us  to  sing  on  our  way  to  our 
heavenly  home, 

"  Come,  brethren,  onward  move, 

And  travel  hand  in  hand; 

Eejoicing  in  each  other's  love, 

While  in  this  desert  land. 

18 


410  THE    MOST    HOLY    PLACE. 

"  More  child-like  let  us  grow, 
Nor  fall  out  by  the  way ; 
And  angels,  e'en  while  here  below, 
"Well-pleased  shall  with  us  stay." 


XLVII. 

"ELI,  ELI,   LAMA  SABACHTHANI!" 

Once,  when  a  voice  spoke  from  heaven  to  the  people  who  were 
assembled  around  Jesus,  the  evangelist  relates,  that  "  some  said 
it  thundered;  others,  that  an  angel  spoke  to  him."  No  one 
exactly  knew  what  to  make  of  the. wondrous  sound,  although  all 
were  affected,  amazed,  and  thrilled  by  a  secret  awe.  Such  are 
our  feelings  on  the  present  occasion,  on  hearing  the  echo  of  the 
cry,  which  sounds  down  from  the  cross ;  and  I  confess  that  my 
soul  trembles  at  the  idea  of  approaching  the  unfathomable  depth 
of  suffering,  from  whence  the  cry  of  "Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabachthani" 
proceeded.  How  much  rather  would  I  he  prostrate  on  my  face 
in  silence  before  this  awful  incident,  than  write  or  speak  upon 
it !  You  know  what  happened  to  Luther,  when  he  plunged 
himself  in  profound  meditation  on  this  most  enigmatical  and 
affecting  part  of  the  whole  of  our  Saviour's  sufferings.  He 
continued  for  a  long  time  without  food,  and  sat  wide  awake, 
but  as  motionless  as  a  corpse,  in  the  same  position,  on  his  chair. 
And  when  at  length  he  rose  up  from  the  depth  of  his  cogitation, 
as  from  the  shaft  of  a  mysterious  mine,  he  broke  into  a  cry  of 
amazement,  and  exclaimed,  "  Grocl  forsaken  of  God !  Who  can 
understand  it  ?"  Yes,  who  is  there  that  is  able  ?  We  find  our- 
selves surrounded  by  an  impenetrable  darkness.  But  if  the 
understanding  has  here  reached  the  boundary  of  all  human  com- 
prehension, yet  faith  finds  a  path  amid  these  mysterious  shades. 
A  holy  light  precedes  it,  and  that  light  is  derived  from  the 
Saviour's  Mediatorship.  Enlightened  by  it,  let  us  now  con- 
template, more  closely,  the  awful  cry  of  the  dying  Eedeemer. 

It  is  about  twelve   o'clock  at  noon  that  we  again  meet  on 


UELI,  ELI,  LAMA    SABAC1ITIIANI  !"  411 

Mount  Calvary.  The  Saviour  has  hung  bleeding  on  the  ti  ee  for 
nearly  three  hours.  No  change  has  meanwhile  taken  place  in 
his  vicinity,  except  that,  in  the  little  faithful  group,  we  miss  the 
disciple  John  and  the  mother  of  Jesus,  the  cause  of  which  we 
know.  A  momentary  silence  has  ensued  in  the  crowd  surround- 
ing the  place  of  execution.  "We  may  suppose  that  even  on  them 
the  sublime  behavior  of  the  Divine  Sufferer  under  his  torture 
has  not  failed  in  producing  feelings  of  emotion  and  shame.  They 
look  up  to  the  cross  with  silent  seriousness.  The  moaning  of  the 
two  malefactors  in  their  agony  strikes  their  ears,  and  the  trick- 
ling of  the  blood  of  the  dying  men  is  heard  as  it  falls  to  the 
ground.  From  time  to  time,  also,  the  grief  and  half-stifled  sobs 
of  the  little  faithful  group  is  heard,  whom  we  now,  in  spirit,  join, 
asking  with  anxious  hearts,  if  the  Father  of  heaven  will  continue 
forever  silent  concerning  his  Son,  and  not  at  length  make  it 
known  by  some  sign,  which  shall  be  obvious  to  all  the  world, 
that  he,  who  was  apparently  rejected  both  by  earth  and  heaven, 
was  no  transgressor,  but  in  reality  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and 
his,  the  Father's  elect  and  well-beloved  Son. 

Lo,  a  sign  appears!  But  what  kind  of  one?  Who  could 
have  anticipated  any  thing  of  the  sort  ?  Our  surprise  increases 
to  horror,  our  amazement  to  dismay.  The  sun,  just  arrived  at 
the  meridian,  withdraws  its  beams,  as  if  the  earth  were  no  longer 
worthy  of  its  light,  and  begins  visibly,  in  a  clear  sky,  to  grow 
dark.  First,  twilight  commences,  as  at  the  decline  of  day;  and 
this  is  followed  by  the  obscurity  of  evening.  Gloomy  night  at 
length  spreads  itself  like  a  funeral  pall,  not  only  over  the  land  of 
Juclea,  but  over  the  whole  of  the  enlightened  part  of  the  earth. 
The  animal  creation  are  terrified.  The  herds  of  the  field  crowd 
bellowing  together.  The  birds  of  the  air  flutter,  alarmed,  to 
their  retreats,  and  the  masses  of  the  people  who  surround  the 
place  of  execution,  hurry  back  with  loud  outcries,  to  Jerusalem, 
wringing  their  hands  and  beating  their  breasts.  Trembling  and 
lamentation  extend  into  palaces  and  cottages,  as  if  the  Avorld 
were  menaced  with  destruction.  The  primitive  n\iiers,  as  for 
instance,  Origen  and  Eusebius,  were  acquainted  with  heathen 
records,  some  of  which  were  from  distant  countries,  such  as  that 
of  Phlegon  a  freedman  of  the  Emperor  Adrian,  which  mentions 


412  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

an  eclipse  of  the  sun  at  the  same  time  with  the  crucifixion  of 
Christ,  and  that  one  so  entire,  terrific,  and  wonderful  had  never 
before  been  seen  in  the  world.  An  ancient  tradition  also  states 
that  Diogenes  witnessed,  in  Egypt,  the  solar  darkness  which 
preceded  the  death  of  Jesus,  and  exclaimed,  "  Either  the  Deity 
himself  suffers  at  this  moment,  or  sympathises  with  one  that 
does." 

We,  my  readers,  also  stand  amazed  at  this  terrific  phenomenon, 
in  which  even  the  blindest  can  not  mistake  the  finger  of  the 
Almighty.  But  what  does  this  gigantic  hieroglyphic  on  the 
pillars  of  the  world  denote  ?  Some  have  supposed  it  to  convey 
a  symbolical  manifestation  of  the  wrath  of  God  against  the  mur- 
derers of  Jesus.  But  such  an  interpretation  is  not  in  accordance 
with  the  event  that  is  taking  place  on  Calvary,  and  in  which 
God,  by  the  giving  up  of  his  only-begotten  Son,  evinces,  not 
merely  his  judicial  severity  and  avenging  justice,  but  especially 
Iris  compassion  for  the  murderers.  The  inference  has  also  been 
drawn  from  the  darkness  that  nature  must  have  suffered  in  the 
death  of  Christ.  But  there  seems  little  ground  eve,n  for  this 
explanation,  since  Christ,  by  his  vicarious  death,  became,  in 
an  especial  manner,  the  prop,  support,  and  renovator  of  nature. 

It  has  also  been  supposed  that  the  nocturnal  darkness  typified 
the  fact  that  with  Christ,  the  light  of  the  world  was  extin- 
guished. But  it  was  just  in  Christ's  vicarious  death  that  the 
light  of  consolation  and  of  real  life  rose  upon  the  world.  A 
sympathy  also  of  the  irrational  creation  with  the  pangs  of  its 
Lord  and  Master,  has  been  spoken  of;  but  there  is  no  room  here 
for  such  poetic  speculations.  The  sun  did  not  obscure  itself,  but 
it  was  the  Almighty  who  clothed  it  in  that  mourning-dress. 

The  import  of  the  sudden  darkness  lies  incomparably  deeper 
than  the  above-mentioned  attempts  at  explaining  it.  Even  the 
mournful  cry  of  the  sufferer  does  not  leave  us  for  a  moment  to 
doubt  that  the  darkness  stood  in  immediate  relation  to  his  sacred 
person,  and  the  situation  in  which  he  was  at  the  time.  It  is 
true,  indeed,  that  the  miraculous  event,  according  to  the  purpose 
of  God,  was  intended  to  intimate  to  the  world  the  wondrous 
nature  of  the  fact  about  to  be  chronicled  in  its  history,  that  the 
Eternal  Son,  the  source  of  all  life,  became  himself  a  prey  to 


"  ELI,  ELI,  LAMA   SABACIITIIANI I"  413 

death.  Bat  the  chief  object  of  the  appalling  phenomenon  was 
to  shadow  forth,  by  a  stupendous  figure,  the  mysterious  position 
and  inward  state  at  the  time,  of  him  who  bled  on  the  cross. 
The  Lord  withdrew  himself  from  the  eyes  of  men  behind  the 
black  curtain  of  appalling  night,  as  behind  the  thick  vail  of  the 
temple.  He  hung  there  full  three  hours  on  the  cross,  his  thorn- 
crowned  head  thoughtfully  drooping  on  his  breast,  involved  in 
that  darkness.  He  is  in  the  Most  Holy  Place.  He  stands  at 
the  altar  of  the  Lord.  He  performs  his  sacrificial  functions. 
He  is  the  true  Aaron,  and  at  the  same  time  the  Lamb ;  but 
the  sacrificial  fire  that  burns  around  him,  I  have  no  need  to 
mention. 

That  which,  during  this  time,  passed  between  him  and  his 
Father,  lies,  for  the  present,  sealed  as  with  seven  seals,  hidden 
in  the  depths  of  eternity.  We  only  know  so  much,  that  behind 
that  vail,  he  was  engaged  in  the  most  arduous  conflict,  gained  the 
most  brilliant  victory,  and  adorned  his  representative  obedience 
with  its  final  crown.  We  know  that  the  grave  of  our  sins  was 
then  dug ;  the  handwriting  that  was  against  us  taken  out  of  the 
way;  the  curse  which  impended  over  us  blotted  out;  and  the 
wall  which  separated  Us  from  our  God  removed.  Call  the  sight  of 
the  Redeemer  weltering  in  his  blood,  and  in  total  darkness, 
heart-rending  if  you  will ;  we  know  not  a  more  delightful  scene 
than  that  in  heaven  or  on  earth.  The  man  on  the  cross  is  to  us 
the  fairest  star  in  the  horizon  of  the  world.  We  behold  it,  and 
feel  delivered  from  every  evil.  When  Moses  came  forth  from 
the  darkness  in  which  God  dwelt,  his  face  shone  in  such  a  man- 
ner, that  the  astonished  Israelites  could  not  bear  the  sight.  The 
radiance  which  we  wear  upon  our  brow  from  the  darkness  of 
Calvary,  as  far  as  we  enter  believingly  into  it"  is  milder  and  more 
pleasant;  for  it  is  the  radiance  of  a  peace  of  which  the  world  is 
ignorant,  and  the  reflection  of  an  inward  and  triumphant  joy  of 
which  even  the  angels  might  envy  us. 

But  I  hear  you  say,  "  Explain  to  us  the  meaning  of  the  awful 
darkness ;  decipher  the  terrific  and  ambiguous  hieroglyphic,  and 
unfold  to  us  the  state  it  indicates."  Listen,  then.  That  phenom- 
enon signifies  the  .withdrawing  of  another  sun  than  the  earthly 
one — the  obscuring  of  an  inwa"d  world.     It  shadows  the  going 


414  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

down  of  a  day  of  comfort  and  joy.  It  points  tc  a  night  of  the 
soul,  in  which  the  last  bright  star  is  about  to  disappear. 
Imagine  to  yourselves,  if  possible,  a  man  free  from  sin,  holy, 
nay,  of  divine  nature,  who  calls  the  Almighty  his  light,  God's 
nearness  nis  paradise,  and  God's  love  his  bliss.  Imagine 
him  deprived  of  all  this ;  no  longer  refreshed  with  any  experi- 
ence of  the  gracious  presence  of  his  heavenly  Father,  and 
although  exclaiming,  "Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee?" 
banished  into  dreadful  and  horrifying  visions  of  hell,  and  sur- 
rounded by  nothing  but  images  of  sin  and  death.  Imagine 
such  a  one,  and  then  say  if  his  state  is  not  strikingly  depicted  by 
the  midnight  darkness  which  overspreads  the  earth. 

The  third  hour  of  this  appalling  and  universal  gloom  is  draw- 
ing to  a  close.  The  sun  again  begins  to  cast  off  his  obscuring 
vail.  The  Sufferer  then  breaks  his  long  and  anxious  silence, 
and,  like  some  cry  of  distress  from  the  shaft  of  a  mine,  but  at  the 
same  time,  like  the  trumpet-sound  of  victory,  the  incomprehen- 
sible and  heart-affecting  exclamation  breaks  forth,  "Eli,  Eli,  lama 
sabachthani !"  Under  the  influence  of  reverential  awe,  the  evan- 
gelists give  us  this  cry  in  the  same  language  in  which  it  was 
uttered  by  the  Divine  Sufferer.  It  is  as  if  they  were  apprehen- 
sive lest  a  rendering  of  it  into  Greek  might  detract  somewhat 
from  its  import.  Like  us,  my  readers,  have  all  believers  for 
eighteen  hundred  years  stood  amazed  and  astonished  before 
these  words,  and  have  sought  in  vain  to  fathom  their  depth. 
You  are  aware  that  the  words,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast 
thou  forsaken  me!"  form  the  commencement  of  the  twenty- 
second  Psalm,  in  which  David,  impelled  and  guided  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  describes,  while  connecting  with  it  his  own  sufferings, 
the  lot  of  a  Righteous  One  sojourning  in  a  sinful  world.  His 
description,  however,  expands  in  the  sequel  so  much,  that  the 
Psalmist's  personal  state  and  circumstances  lose  themselves  in 
it;  and  a  child  must  perceive  that  more  stupendous  and  im- 
portant events  than  those  in  the  life  of  David  mingle  in  the 
expressions  made  use  of  by  him.  The  portrait  of  a  guiltless 
sufferer  gradually  increases  to  a  sublimity,  which  has  found  its 
perfect  antitype  in  the  life  of  the  holy  Jesus.  In  the  picture, 
features  appear,  cf  which  we   meet  with   only   slight   traces  in 


"  ELI,  ELI,  LAMA   SABACHTHAXI  !"  415 

David's  history,  and  which,  therefore,  call  upon  us  to  seek  tlieir 
literal  fulfillment  elsewhere.  For  the  sufferer  in  the  Psalms  is 
not  only  represented  as  the  offscouring  of  the  whole  world,  not 
only  do  those  who  see  him  say  to  him,  "  He  trusted  in  the  Lord 
that  he  would  deliver  him ;  let  him  deliver  him,  seeing  that  he 
<leligb,ted  in  him" — not  only  must  he  agonizingly  exclaim,  "  I 
am  poured  out  like  water;  all  my  bones  are- out  of  joint;  my 
tongue  cleaveth  to  my  jaws,  and  thou  hast  brought  me  into  the 
dust  of  death" — but  he  must  also  see  what  David  never  experi- 
enced, that  his  hands  and  feet  were  pierced,  and  that  his  enemies 
parted  his  garments  among  them,  and  cast  lots  upon  his  vesture. 
Besides  tins,  his  passion  ends  in  such  a  manner  as  no  other 
man's  sufferings  ;  for  a  glorious  crown  of  victory  at  length 
adorns  the  head  of  this  tried  and  faithful  One,  yea,  he  receives 
the  testimony  that  his  sufferings  shall  result  in  nothing  short  of 
the  salvation  of  the  world,  and  the  restoration,  enlightening,  and 
beatifying  of  the  Gentiles.  Who  is  so  blind  as  not  to  perceive 
that  this  just  man,  who  is  so  sorely  tried,  and  who  comes  forth 
so  triumphantly  from  the  conflict,  as  depicted  by  the  Spirit  in 
this  twenty-second  Psalm,  is  no  other  than  the  promised  Mes- 
siah in  the  person  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth?  This  is  beyond  a 
doubt,  even  if  the  New  Testament  had  not  expressly  given  that 
Psalm  such  an  application.  Even  one  of  the  champions  of  modern 
infidelity,  prophesying  like  Balaam,  has  called  the  twenty- 
second  Psalm  "  the  programme  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ ;" 
and  another,  against  his  will,  is  carried  away  to  use  these  words, 
"One  might  almost  think  a  Christian  had  written  this  Psalm." 

We  will  not  entirely  reject  the  idea  that  our  Lord,  in  his 
distress  of  soul,  bore  this  Psalm  in  mind.  But  if  he  uttered  his 
exclamation  with  a  conscious  reference  to  it,  he  certainly  did  not 
do  so  simply  in  order  that  the  words  might  be  fulfilled ;  but 
only  because  that  prophetic  Psalm  was  now  being  fulfilled  in 
him.  That  mournful  cry,  as  it  proceeded  from  his  lips,  was  the 
genuine  expression  of  the  most  perfect  personal  reality  and 
truth.  "But  was  Christ  really  forsaken  of  God  while  on  the 
cross?"  Not  a  moment,  my  dear  readers.  How  could  he  be 
forsaken  of  God,  who  was  essentially  one  with  him,  and  when 
just  at  the  moment  of  his  unconditional  obedient  self-sacrifice  on 


416  THE    MOST    HOLY    PLACE. 

the  cross,  he  was  the  object  of  his  supreme  and  paternal  good 
pleasure  ?  But  in  the  depths  of  suffering  into  which  he  had 
then  sunk,  and  through  which  his  cry  of  "  Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabach- 
thani !"  darts  like  a  flash  of  lightning — such  distress  over- 
powered him,  such  horrible  and  death-like  terror  appalled  him, 
and  such  infernal  temptations  roared  around  him,  that  a  feeling 
came  over  him,  as  if  hie  were  exiled  from  the  fellowship  of  God, 
and  entirely  given  up  to  the  infernal  powers.  Not  only  did 
all  the  horrors  which  were  produced  in  the  world  from  the 
dreadful  womb  of  sin  expand  themselves  before  him,  but  he  also 
entered,  with  his  holy  soul,  in  a  manner  incomprehensible  to 
us,  into  the  fellowship  of  our  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  emptied 
the  whole  of  the  horrible  cup  of  the  wages  of  sin — that  is, 
of  the  death  involved  in  the  curse,  which  was  threatened  in 
paradise. 

And  no  one  stood  by  him.  No  greeting  of  affection  descended 
toward  him  from  heaven.  No  vision  of  angels  refreshed  him 
in  his  great  agony.  The  Father  had  really  withdrawn  himself 
from  his  inward  consciousness.  In  the  sphere  of  his  feelings, 
the  latter  stood  opposed  to  him.  If  the  trials  in  Gethsemane 
brought  the  Lord  Jesus  to  the  extreme  boundary  of  obedience 
— those  of  the  cross  brought  him  to  the  utmost  extent  of  faith. 
Not  a  step,  no,  nor  a  line  more  was  between  him  and  despair. 
According  to  Psalm  lxix.  15,  the  horrible  idea  entered  his  soul 
as  with  a  vulture's  claws,  that  these  floods  of  suffering  might 
swallow  him  up,  and  the  pit  shut  her  mouth  upon  him.  It  was 
then  that  the  cry  of  "Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabachthani !"  was  wrung 
from  his  agitated  breast. 

But  be  very  careful,  in  explaining  this  expression,  that  you 
make  no  mistake.  It  is  not  a  charging  God  with  having  for- 
saken him,  but  rather  a  powerful  defense  against  infernal  incite- 
ment to  such  an  accusation.  By  the  repetition  of  the  words, 
"  My  God,"  he  makes  it  evident  that  solely  by  means  of  his 
naked  faith  he  had  struggled  through  all  opposing  feelings ;  and 
that  God  was  still  his  God.  Does  he  not,  in  these  words,  still 
cling  with  filial  fondness  to  his  heavenly  Father,  and  say — 
although  the  words,  "  My  God,"  instead  of  "  My  Father,"  leave 
us  to  infer  a  superiority  of  "nward  reverence  in  the  presence  of 


"  ELI,  ELI,  LAMA   SABACHTHANI I"  417 

the  Eternal  Majesty — "  Between  thee  and  me  there  can  never  be 
any  separation !" 

Perhaps  some  one  may  say,  "  But  we  hear  him  inquire  why 
God  had  forsaken  him?"  That  is  true;  but  consider  that  the 
words  do  not,  in  the  first  place,  ask  the  reason  of  his  passion  in 
general.  Of  this  he  was  clearly  conscious  every  moment  on  the 
cross.  The  question  rather  refers  exclusively  to  the  personal 
bearing  of  his  heavenly  Father  toward  him,  especially  during 
the  three  hours  of  darkness;  and  the  inquiry  is  a  filial  one, 
synonymous  with  "  Why  art  thou  so  far  from  me,  and  hidest  thy 
face  from  me  ?"  But  at  the  very  moment  in  which  he  is  threat- 
ened with  the  horrible  idea  that  the  hell  which  blazed  around  him 
might  close  over  him,  and  when  the  nameless  misery  of  being 
eternally  rejected  entered,  as  far  as  it  was  possible,  into  his  con- 
sciousness, he  fled  from  this  horrible  mental  phantom,  and  from 
the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  one,  holding  the  shield  of  faith 
against  them,  into  the  arms  of  God;  and  hence  the  following 
results  as  the  real  meaning  of  his  mournful  cry,  "  My  God,  why 
dost  thou  forsake  me,  and  withdraw  thine  aid  from  me  ?  Have 
I  acted  contrary  to  thy  commands?  Am  I  not  still  thy  child, 
thy  only-begotten  Son ;  in  whom  is  all  thy  delight  ?  And  thou 
art  still  my  God ;  for  how  shouldst  thou  be  able  to  forsake 
mi'?  Thou  canst  not;  thou  wilt  help  me  out  of  this  distress. 
Thou  wilt  cause  thy  face  again  to  shine."  Thus,  complaint — 
not  accusation — a  cry  for  help,  and  a  victorious  child-like  con- 
fidence are  the  three  elements  which  mingle  in  the  exclamation, 
"  Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabachthani!" 

But  let  this  suffice  respecting  a  subject  which,  inaccessible  to 
human  comprehension,  discloses,  even  to  believing  presentiment, 
only  a  small  part  of  its  sublime  signification.  But  so  much  must 
ar  to  every  one,  that  without  the  doctrine  of  mediation, 
Christ's  mournful  cry  on  the  cross  would  be  altogether  inexpli 
cable.  But,  viewed  in  connection  with  it,  the  words  become  the 
solemn  announcement  of  our  eternal  redemption.  May  God  in 
mercy  grant  that  as  such,  they  may  find  a  mighty  and  incr. 
echo  within  us ! 

Tj.us,  as  far  as  it  was  possible — and  with  reference  to  the 
mysterious  connection  into  which  Christ  as  the   second  Adam, 

18* 


418  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

entered  with  our  race,  we  must  not  imagine  the  limits  of  this 
possibility  too  narrow — the  Lord  tasted  the  bitterest  drop  in  the 
accursed  cup — the  being  forsaken  of  God.  The  words,  "  My 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?"  were  certainly  the  warrior's 
cry,  with  which  he  overpowered  and  victoriously  overcame,  by 
faith,  the  inward  feeling  of  abandonment.  But,  nevertheless,  it 
was  a  manifest  proof  that  Christ  had  really  to  endure  an  arduous 
struggle  with  this  horrible  feeling. 

If  we  now  inquire  what  fruits  have  resulted  to  us  from  this 
conflict,  the  fact  itself  is  encouraging  and  consolatory  for  us, 
that  in  our  Lord's  inquiry  why  he  was  forsaken,  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  perfect  righteousness  before  God  is  so  clearly  mani- 
fested. For  in  default  of  it,  how  could  he  have  ventured  the 
bold  question  to  the  thrice  holy  God,  why  he  had  forsaken  him  ? 
But  the  most  essential  benefit  which  Ave  derive  from  his  conflict 
is  a  very  different  one.  How  did  those  mistake,  who,  beneath 
the  cross,  said  to  one  another,  in  wretched  misunderstanding  of 
his  words,  "This  man  calleth  for  Elias!"  Primarily,  this 
remark  was  intended  for  any  thing  but  mockery.  On  the> 
contrary,  the  feeling  again  broke  in  upon  the  murderers  that 
the  exalted  one  who  was  bleeding  on  the  cross  might  be  the 
Messiah.  But  as  they  knew  from  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah  and 
Malachi  that  Elias,  as  the  forerunner,  was  to  precede  the  great 
one  who  was  to  come,  the  idea  occurred  to  them  that  possibly 
the  Divine  Saviour  was  invoking  the  aid  of  that  powerful  herald 
of  God  from  the  invisible  world.  But  what  a  misunderstanding 
of  the  great  Redeemer  lay  at  the  bottom  of  this  idea  of  his 
crucifiers !  It  was  not  of  himself  that  he  thought,  but  of  the 
sinners  whom  he  was  representing,  when  he  exclaimed,  "Eli, 
Eli,  lama  sabachthani !"  and  his  primary  intention  in  it  was 
to  reconquer  the  heart  of  the  living  God  for  them.  For  if  God 
orsook  him,  he  had  also  forsaken  them  whom  he  represented. 
If  God  rejected  the  Surety's  work  as  insufficient,  the  redemption 
of  the  whole  world  was  frustrated.  It  was  chiefly  this  considera- 
tion which  forced  from  our  Lord  the  cry  of  "  My  God,  My  Gocl, 
why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?"  and  hence  his  question  contains 
this  meaning  in  it  also — "  No,  thou  dost  not  forsake  me,  thou 
acceptest  my  work,  and  I,  therefore,   cleave  firmly  to  thee  as 


"ELI,  ELI,  LAMA    SA  UACHTII ANI  I"  419 

my  God,  and  consequently,  also,  as  the  God  of  those  whose  cause 
I  have  undertaken." 

But  his  heavenly  Father  did  not  suffer  the  cry  of  his  Son  to 
remain  without  his  "Amen."  He  uttered  it  symbolically,  by 
immediately  dispelling  the  darkness,  and  restoring  to  the  sun 
its  full  mid-day  splendor.  The  being  thus  forsaken,  essentially 
belonged  to  the  cup  which  our  great  High  Priest  was  obliged 
to  empty  for  us.  Hence  there  can  be  no  idea  that  those  who 
are  united  to  Christ  by  the  bonds  of  a  living  faith,  can  be  really 
forsaken  of  God.  Even  as  for  us,  no  somber  cloud  any  longer 
darkens  heaven,  and  as  we  at  all  times  behold  the  face  of  God 
unvailed,  and  every  moment  may  enjoy  free  access  to  his  throne 
of  grace,  so  God  will  never  more  depart  from  us,  whatever  else 
may  forsake  us.  Though  we  may  be  abandoned  by  the  world's 
favor,  the  friendship  of  men,  earthly  prosperity,  and  bodily 
strength,  though  we  may  even  be  bereft,  as  may  possibly  be  the 
ease,  of  the  feeling  of  God's  nearness,  and  the  freshness  of  the 
inward  lite  of  faith ;  yet  God  drimself  always  continues  near 
and  favorably  inclined  to  us  in  Christ.  However  strangely  he 
may  sometimes  act  toward  us,  into  whatever  furnace  of  afflic- 
tion he  may  plunge  us,  however  completely  he  may  withdraw 
himself  from  our  consciousness,  yet  in  every  situation  the  bliss- 
ful privilege  belongs  to  us,  not  only  courageously  to  approach 
him,  and  say,  "  Why  dost  thou  forsake  me,  thy  child,  for  whom 
thy  Son  has  atoned?"  but  also  to  say  to  him  with  still  bolder 
confidence,  "  Thou  wilt  not,  canst  not,  and  darest  not  forsake 
me,  because  the  merits  of  thy  only-begotten  Son  forever  bind 
thee  to  me." 

At  this  very  time,  the  corpse  of  a  pious  female,  who  was  one  of 
the  most  costly  pearls  which,  from  this  great  city,  will  eventually 
adorn  the*  Redeemer's  crown,  is  being  carried  to  its  final  resting- 
place.  Who  knew  her,  except  her  children  and  a  little  group 
of  like-minded  friends,  whom  the  Lord  had  conducted  to  her? 
Who,  except  these,  ever  heard  her  name?  She  lay  two  whole 
years  in  the  concealment  of  a  gloomy  attic,  sick  of  a  grievous 
and  painful  disease,  as  if  on  thorns,  but  she  was  thought  to  be 
lying  on  a  bed  of  roses,  so  full  was  she  of  heavenly  peace  and 
cheerful  resignation.     The  cause  of  which  was,  That  Christ  had 


420  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

become  her  life.  The  more  her  body  wasted,  the  more  was  her 
spirit  visibly  strengthened  in  God.  The  more  her  outward  man 
decayed,  the  more  gloriously  did  her  inner  man  unfold  and 
transfigure  itself.  If,  occasionally,  the  flood  of  suffering  pene- 
trated into  her  soul,  we  never  heard  her  sigh,  much  less  despond- 
If  her  faith  grew  dark,  her  eyes  were  immediately  directed  to 
Calvary,  and  beneath  the  echo  of  "  Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabachthani !" 
the  cloud  on  her  brow  was  rapidly  dispelled.  "  He  can  not  forsake 
me,"  sai&  she,  with  a  smile,  "  after  forsaking  him  for  me,  who 
paid  my  ransom."  And  once,  when  in  the  days  of  her  last  agony, 
compassion  forced  from  me  the  words,  "  0  that  it  might  please 
the  Lord  in  some  measure  to  alleviate  the  cross  of  suffering!" 
she  replied,  waving  her  hand,  and  with  solemn  and  serious 
emphasis,  "  0  be  silent !  not  one  drop  less !  each  of  them  is 
carefully  measured  out  by  his  wisdom  and  love."  She  left  the 
world  adorned  with  the  heavenly  chaplet  of  the  firmest  faith, 
the  sincerest  humility,  the  most  persevering  resignation  and 
patience,  and  the  most  self-deriying  love,  a  triumphant  conqueror 
over  death  and  the  grave.  She  now  sings  the  great  "Halle- 
lujah" with  the  host  of  those  glorified  spirits  who  have  come 
out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes  and  made 
them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  God  has  wiped  away 
the  tears  from  her  eyes,  and  placed  in  her  hand  the  palm  of  a 
never-fading  triumph.  As  her  last  will,  she  left  behind  her  the 
earnest  request  that  nothing  might  be  said  at  her  grave,  except 
what  had  reference  to  the  grace  of  Christ  and  the  power  of  his 
blood.  Nor  will  we  boast  of  any  thing  else  over  her  tomb  than 
the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ,  and  add  the  prayerful  wish  that  our 
last  end  may  be  like  hers ! 

I  have  inserted  this  incident  in  order  to  give  my  readers  a 
fresh  proof  that  Goft  has  still  his  people  among  us,  and  that 
he  still  sues  for  souls  in  the  midst  of  us,  as  well  as  to  afford  them 
an  instance  how  the  mystery  of  the  cross  in  general,  and  that  of 
God's  abandonment  of  the  Mediator  in  particular,  should  be 
taken  advantage  of.  May  we  be  enabled  to  appropriate,  in  this 
manner,  the  fruits  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  may  the  words  of 
the  hymn  be  increasingly  realized  in  our  happy  experience — 


"i   THIRST  I"  421 

0,  the  sweet  wonders  of  that  cross 

On  which  my  Saviour  loved  and  died ! 
Its  noblest  life  my  spirit  draws 

From  his  dear  wounds  and  bleeding  side." 


XLVIII. 
"I    THIRST!" 

That  jortion  of  the  history  of  our  Saviour's  passion,  which 
will  form  the  subject  of  our  present  meditation,  does  not  ap- 
parently belong  to  the  more  important  and  edifying  parts  of  it. 
But  let  us  not  be  deceived  by  the  mere  appearance,  for  if  we 
dig  sufficiently  deep,  we  shall  here  find  also  the  water  of  life 
abundantly  springing  forth  from  the  inexhaustible  well  of  sal- 
vation, which  was  opened  for  us  on  Calvary. 

It  is  about  the  ninth  hour,  or  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
The  awful  cry  of  "Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabachthani !"  has  just  been 
uttered,  which,  while  it  was  doubtless  a  cry  of  distress,  was, 
at  the  same  time,  a  shout  of  victory  and  triumph.  The  sun 
again  shines  forth  from  its  gloomy  covering,  and  heaven  again 
looks  kindly  down  upon  the  earth.  But  you  would  be  under  a 
mistake  in  supposing  this  to  be  a  sign,  that  the  agonizing  dark- 
ness which  reigned  in  the  Redeemer's  soul,  was  now  over.  It 
continues  even  till  the  moment  of  his  decease,  although  essentially 
diminished  by  the  clearness  of  faith,  which  he  had  regained ; 
and  even  the  words,  "  I  thirst !"  reach  our  ears  from  the  midst 
of  that  darkness.  To  doubt  this,  would  show  little  acquaintance 
with  the  sixty-ninth  Psalm,  the  mournful  expressions  in  which, 
receive  their  final  fulfillment  in  tins  last  stage  of  our  Lord's 
crucifixion. 

It  is  true  that  Jesus  knew,  according  to  the  express  declara- 
tion of  the  evangelist,  that  his  passion  was  drawing  to  its  close. 
He  clearly  saw  that  the  cup  of  suffering  was  emptied,  with  the 
exception  of  the  last  drops;  but  these  last  drops  still  remained, 
and  required   also   to  be  drank,  and,  believe  me,  they  did  not 


422  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

yield  in  bitterness  to  those  already  tasted.  Ah,  see,  he  already 
drinks  them!  The  woes  of  that  death  which  was  threatened 
in  paradise,  seize  him.  He  enters  into  that  state  of  which  the 
spirit  of  prophecy  represents  him  in  the  above-mentioned  Psalm, 
as  complaining  and  saying,  "  I  am  weary  of  my  crying,  my 
throat  is  dried,  mine  eyes  fail  while  I  wait  for  my  God.  Draw 
nigh  unto  my  soul  and  redeem  it.  Reproach  hath  broken  my 
heart,  and  I  am  full  of  heaviness.  I  looked  for  some  to  take 
pity,  but  there  was  none,  and  for  comforters,  but  I  found  none." 
And  these  complaints  conclude  with  the  remarkable  and  pro- 
phetic words,  "They  gave  me  also  gall  for  my  meat,  and  in 
my  thirst  they  gave  me  vinegar  to  drink."  This  trait,  which 
also  points  out  no  resting-place  in  the  Saviour's  path  of  suffering, 
had  to  be  realized  in  the  progress  of  his  passion ;  and  as  a  proof 
that  this  was  really  the  case,  or,  as  the  G-ospel  expresses  it, 
"  that  the  Scriptures  might  be  fulfilled,"  our  Lord  exclaims  from 
the  cross,  "I  thirst  1"  Yes,  these  words  tell  of  complaint, 
distress,  and  agony.  This,  the  Psalm  above  mentioned,  which 
portrays  to  us  a  succession  of  trials,  places  beyond  a  doubt. 

But  of  what  nature  was  the  distress  expressed  by  the  cry? 
First,  it  was  certainly  of  a  physical  kind.  How  wounded  and 
exhausted  was  the  Saviour,  even  when  he  reached  Mount 
Calvary !  and  he  had  already  hung  nearly  six  hours  on  the 
cross.  The  blood-vessels  of  his  sacred  body  are  almost  dried  up. 
A  dreadful  fever  rages  through  his  frame.  His  juices  have 
disappeared.  His  tongue  cleaves  to  his  jaws.  His  lips  glow, 
and  a  drop  of  water  seems  a  great  refreshment  to  him.  There 
is  scarcely  a  greater  torment  than  that  of  an  insatiable  thirst. 
Travelers  who  have  experienced  it  in  the  burning  steppes  of 
the  East,  give  us  descriptions  of  it,  which  fill  us  with  horror. 
They  assure  us,  that  when  thus  situated,  if  they  had  possessed 
all  the  gold  in  the  world,  they  would  gladly  have  resigned  it  for 
a  few  drops,  even  of  the  muddiest  water  of  our  brooks.  If 
they  discovered  a  glimmering  spot  at  a  distance,  which  seemed 
to  them  a  pond  or  lagoon,  they  rushed  toward  it  like  madmen. 
But  if  it  turned  out  to  be  only  a  burning  sandy  surface,  on 
which  the  sun's  rays  played,  their  disappointment  plunged  them 
into  a  state  of  desp  air,  which  caused  them  to  break  out  into 


"i  thirst!"  423 

loud  bowlings.  Only  think,  the  Saviour  of  the  world  was  no 
stranger  to  this  torment  also!  Even  to  this  depth  of  destitution 
and  wretchedness  did  he,  who  was  so  unspeakably  rich,  divest 
himself.  And  all  this  for  us,  "  that  we  through  his  poverty 
might  be  made  rich!"  Who  is  able  to  comprehend  and  worthily 
to  praise  such  amazing  love? 

But  the  cry  from  the  cross,  "I  thirst,"  refers  to  something 
more  horrible  still  than  bodily  torment.  Does  it  not  remind  you 
of  the  awful  representation  from  the  invisible  world,  which  the 
Lord  once  portrayed  to  our  view  in  one  of  his  parables  ?  Does 
not  the  remembrance  of  the  rich  man  present  itself  to  you,  who, 
while  on  earth,  clothed  himself  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and 
fared  sumptuously  every  day;  but  after  inexorable  death  had 
swept  him  away,  wrung  his  hands  despairingly,  being  in  pain 
and  torment ;  and  agonized  by  a  nameless  inward  thirst,  he 
called  upon  father  Abraham  to  send  Lazarus,  that  he  might  dip 
the  tip  of  his  finger  in  water,  and  cool  his  parched  tongue,  but 
whose  request  was  refused  without  mercy,  however  suppliantly 
it  knocked  at  heaven's  gates  from  the  habitations  of  eternal 
night  ? 

"  No ;"  I  hear  you  reply,  "  we  did  not  think  of  this  parable 
here.  How  should  the  rich  man  in  torment  remind  us  of  the 
holy  and  righteous  sufferer?  We  should  deem  it  impious  to 
compare  the  thirst  of  the  guiltless  Jesus  with  that  of  this  child 
of  hell.  By  such  a  comparison  we  think  we  should  be  acting 
worse  than  the  Jews  in  numbering  him  with  the  transgressors." 
So  you  say;  but  know,  my  friends,  that  only  those  can  speak 
thus,  who  do  not  believe  what  the  Scriptures  state  of  the  vicarious 
enduring  of  the  curse  by  Jesus  Christ.  But  he  to  whom  the 
light  of  the  Holy  Spirit  has  risen  upon  the  words,  u  the  chastise- 
ment of  our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  with  his  stripes  we  are 
healed,"  would  be  indeed  astonished  if  the  Mediator  did  not 
actually  experience  the  lot  of  the  man  in  the  parable — that  is, 
if  he  had  not  tasted,  as  far  as  was  possible,  all  the  torments  of 
the  damned.  And  he  actually  did  so!  The  bitter  scorn  and 
ridicule  which  reached  his  ear  from  below,  and  was  also  ex- 
pressed in  the  words,  "  Let  us  see  if  Elias  will  come  and 
help  him,"  was  only  a  faint  and  human  representation  of  the 


424-  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

more  horrible  assaults,  which  he  had  to  endure  behind  the  vail 
of  that  which  was  external.  There,  unseen,  he  was  surrounded 
by  the  bands  of  Belial.  There  the  powers  of  darkness  aimed  at 
him  their  most  dangerous  missiles.  There  Satan  sifted  Mm  like 
wheat,  and  from  this  appalling  host  of  adversaries,  from  this 
horrible  desert,  from  this  a  pit  in  which  there  was  no  water," 
and  in  which  he  could  only  believe  that  God  was  his  God, 
without  feeling  him  to  be  so,  rose,  like  the  prayer  of  the  lost 
man  to  send  Lazarus,  the  cry,  " I  thirst!"  To  spare  us,  sinners, 
the  thirst  of  an  infinite  absence  of  comfort,  he  submitted  to  such 
torment  in  his  mediatorial  capacity  !  O  what  a  well  of  consola- 
tion has  he  opened  for  us  by  his  thirst!  If  we  sinners  now 
exclaim,  "  Be  not  terrible  unto  me,  thou  who  art  my  confidence 
in  distress,"  the  flowing  streams  of  peace  bear  the  divine  amen ! 
to  our  prayers  for  the  sake  of  the  Redeemer's  thirst. 

"I  thirst!"  For  what  did  he  thirst?  I  think  the  answer 
now  is  plain.  It  was  not  only  for  earthly  water  that  he 
languished,  but  for  something  greater,  higher,  and  more  essential. 
He  longed  for  the  termination  of  his  redeeming  toil,  and  the 
completion  of  his  great  work  of  mediation.  When  this  object  was 
attained,  he  would  again  be  restored  to  the  full  beatifying  fellow- 
ship of  his  heavenly  Father,  and  would  again  see,  whereas 
he  now  only  believed.  He  would  not  then  have  laboriously 
to  struggle  for  the  consciousness  that  God  was  kindly  and 
paternally  inclined  toward  him,  but  would  again  taste  it,  for  he 
would  then  rest,  as  formerly,  in  his  Father's  bosom,  and  instead 
of  the  horrible  images  of  sin,  the  curse,  and  death,  the 
radiance  of  a  spotless  purity  and  holiness  would  beam  upon 
him  anew  from  every  side.  Peace  and  joy  would  then  return. 
The  viperous  hissing  of  the  powers  of  darkness  around  him 
would  be  silenced.  He  would  hear  only  the  hallelujahs  of 
angels,  and  the  blest  above.  Every  discord  would  be  dissolved 
in  blissful  harmony,  and  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  breathed, 
would  again  be  love,  entirely  love.  Yes,  he  thirsted  after  the 
full  restoration  of  his  Father's  countenance,  and  after  his 
Father's  renewed  and  plain  declaration,  "  Thou  art  my  beloved 
Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased,"  as  well  as  after  the  paternal 
confirmation  of   his  work  of   redemption,   as    being    spotlessly 


"i  thirst!"  425 

perfect.  That  he  thii  bted  chiefly  for  this,  is  no  arbitrary  sup- 
position, but  is  derived  from  those  passages  of  the  sixty-ninth 
Psalm,  which  belong  here,  and  which  represent  him  as  saying 
in  his  agony,  "Save  me,  0  God,  for  the  waters  are  come  in 
unto  my  soul.  My  prayer  is  unto  thee,  0  Lord!  hear  me  in 
the  truth  of  thy  salvation.  Turn  unto  me  according  to  the 
multitude  of  thy  tender  mercies.  Hide  not  thy  face  from  thy 
servant,  for  I  am  in  trouble.  Hear  me  speedily;  draw  nigh 
unto  my  soul,  and  redeem  it."  Hence  his  thirst  is  an  expression 
of  desire  toward  his  heavenly  Father. 

But  think  not  that  in  this  complaint  he  had  only  himself  and 
what  belonged  to  his  peace  in  view.  It  was  not  for  his  own 
sake  that  he  hung  upon  the  cross.  He  longed  to  be  again 
received  into  fellowship  with  God,  because  his  reception  into  it 
would  be  a  pledge  of  theirs,  whom  he  bore  vicariously  upon  his 
heart.  As  the  second  Adam,  he  experienced  their  fate  in  what 
he  endured,  and  by  that  means  acquired  a  legal  claim  to  prepare 
their  future  inheritance.  After  taking  their  place,  as  their  rep- 
resentative, he  could  not  be  justified,  exalted,  and  crowned 
without  their  participating  in  it.  But  how  did  he  long  for  the 
moment  when  he  could  appear  before  his  Father,  and  say, 
"  Here  am  I,  and  those  whom  thou  hast  given  me !  I  have 
redeemed  them,  have  bought  them  with  my  blood,  and  now 
present  them  before  thee  unreprovable.  Henceforth  they  are 
thine  and  mine,  and  worthy  to  enter  into  thy  courts."  It  is  to 
this  desire  of  his  heart,  and  to  this  especially,  that  he  gave 
utterance  in  the  symbolical  words,  "I  thirst!"  0  with  what 
rich  garlands  of  love  has  Jesus  adorned  the  accursed  tree  I 

But  we  do  not  fail  to  perceive  that  the  words,  u  I  thirst,"  not 
only  expressed  the  Saviour's  longing  after  God  his  heavenly 
Father,  but  likewise  a  request  to  mankind,  whom  he  saw  repre- 
sented on  Calvary  by  those  who  crucified  him.  Even  from  them 
he  solicited  a  charitable  act.  He  requested  of  them  a  drink  of 
cooling  water  for  his  parched  tongue.  Do  not  overlook  this 
circumstance.  However  trivial  the  trait  may  seem,  there  is 
something  great  concealed  under  it.  Who,  even  if  he  had  been 
the  noblest  of  his  race,  would  in  Jesus's  situation,  have  uttered 
those  words  to  his  scoffing  foes,  and  have  besought  of  them  a 


426  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

manifestation  of  kindness  and  charity  ?  These  men  were  deserv- 
ing of  proud  contempt ;  but  as  a  proof  that  he  was  so  differently 
minded  from  his  brethren  after  the  flesh,  and  that  nothing  dwelt 
in  his  heart  of  all  that  is  termed  wounded  pride,  revenge,  or 
angry  feeling — he  solicits  from  his  adversaries  an  act  of  com- 
passion and  kindness,  and  says  to  them,  suppliantly,  "I  thirst," 
What  else  did  he  intend  to  say  by  this,  than,  "  See,  I  do  not 
break  with  you.  I  continue  faithfully  inclined  toward  you,  and 
hold  the  bond  firmly  which  connects  me  with  you."  Let  him 
look  here,  who  does  not  yet  know  what  it  is  to  heap  coals  of  fire 
on  his  enemy's  head.  How  does  the  holiness  of  your  Eedeemer 
again  manifest  itself!  How  does  the  pure  golden  grain  of  his 
divine  nature  here  display  itself  afresh  I  Yes,  light  is  his  gar- 
ment. But  it  was  necessary  that  he  who  was  willing  to  be  our 
Surety  and  Mediator  should  be  so  constituted.  A  speck  on  the 
white  robe  of  his  righteousness  would  have  sufficed  to  have  de- 
prived him  of  the  ability  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  great 
work. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  delicate  trait  of  heartfelt  ap- 
proximation and  confiding  condescension,  as  evidenced  in  the 
words,  "I  thirst,"  -must  have  filled  those  who  crucified  the 
Saviour,  with  a  confusion  which  would  have  scarcely  permitted 
them  to  lift  up  their  eyes  any  more.  And  it  certainly  seems  as 
if  it  had  not  entirely  failed  of  its  conciliating  impression,  by  pro- 
ducing in  them  milder  sentiments.  We  see  them  immediately 
prepare  to  fulfill  his  request.  One  of  them  runs  and  fetches  a 
branch  of  hyssop,  and  after  they  had  dipped  a  sponge  in  vinegar, 
and  put  it  on  the  reed,  they  held  it  up  to  his  mouth  that  he 
might  suck  it.  But  even  this  miserable  refreshment  is  mingled 
with  the  gall  of  renewed  mockery.  "  Let  alone,"  say  they,  "  let 
us  see  whether  Elias  will  come  to  take  him  down !"  But  if  I 
mistake  not,  there  is  more  seriousness  than  jest  in  this  speech, 
and  that  they  really  intended  by  it  to  disguise  the  better  and 
gentler  feelings  of  compassion — nay,  even  a  certain  inclining 
toward  the  dying  man,  which  they  felt  arise  within  them  at 
that  moment.  If  we  wish  to  gain  our  opponents,  we  can  not  do 
so  more  rapidly  or  surely  than  by  requesting  them  to  da  us  a 
kindness,  and  thus  oblige   ourselves  to  thank  them.    This  will 


"i  thirst!"  427 

immediately  soften  them.  But  in  order  to  this,  a  degree  of 
humility  and  charity  is  requisite,  which  every  one  does  not  pos- 
sess. But  this  charity  and  humility  dwelt  in  the  Saviour  in 
unlimited  fullness ;  and  in  order  to  place  himself  in  a  position  to 
owe  the  world  his  thanks,  he  gives  the  latter,  by  saying,  "  I 
thirst,"  the  opportunity  of  presenting  him  with  the  last  earthly 
solace  of  his  life. 

What  an  affecting  and  heart-winning  trait  is  this!  0  that 
it  may  win  our  hearts  also,  if  they  are  not  already  gained  for 
Jesus!  For  that  for  which  he  chiefly  thirsts  is,  that  he  may 
gain  us  over  to  himself.  The  principal  object  of  his  desire  and 
longing  is,  that  transgressors  may  be  freed  from  sin ;  they  that 
are  under  the  curse,  absolved ;  those  that  are  bound,  liberated  ; 
and  the  prisoners  set  free.  But  that  this  great  end  of  human 
redemption  may  be  accomplished,  he  still  thirsts  for  our  love, 
the  resignation  of  ourselves  to  him,  and  for  our  childlike  confi- 
dence in  Ins  saving  name.  We  therefore  know  how  and  with 
what  we  can  still  refresh  the  Lord  of  Glory.  The  first  solace 
which  he,  with  desire,  awaits  from  us,  is  our  tears  of  penitence 
and  repentance.  0  let  us  bear  them  to  him  !  Or  shall  we  never 
fall  weeping  into  each  other's  arms  saying,  "Come,  and  let  us 
return  unto  the  Lord ;  for  he  hath  torn  and  he  will  heal  us ;  he 
hath  smitten,  and  he  will  bind  us  up  ?"  Shall  the  blood  which 
flowed  on  the  cross,  never  succeed  in  softening  the  hard  ground 
of  our  hearts,  nor  the  love  which  died  for  us,  inflame  our  frigid 
souls  with  a  reciprocal  affection  ?  0  the  abundance  of  awaken- 
ing voices  and  attracting  powers,  which  urge  themselves  upon 
us  from  the  cross!  Will  we  ever  resist  them,  as  if  we  con- 
sidered it  an  honor  to  make  it  evident  that  the  hardness  of  our 
hearts  was  altogether  invincible?  May  G-od  prevent  it,  and 
bestow  upon  us  the  humility  of  the  publican,  and  the  ardent 
desire  of  the  dying  malefactor. 

There  may  be  some  of  my  readers  whose  eyes,  from  which  a 
penitential  tear  never  flowed,  will  soon  close  in  death.  0  that 
t)ey  would  melt  before  despair  hardens  them  forever!  There 
may  be  those  who,  from  childhood  up,  have  witnessed  what 
many  prophets  and  kings  have  desired  to  see  and  have  not  seen, 
and  yet  are  far  from  recognizing  the  one  thing  that  is  needfuL 


428  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

0  that  they  would  weep  at  length  over  their  blindness,  and  their 
base  and  appalling  ingratitude !  There  may  be  those,  also,  whose 
eyes  require  no  light  to  reveal  to  them  their  misdeeds,  and  yet 
are  nevertheless  like  sealed  fountains  which  yield  no  water.  0 
that  you  could  weep  as  Peter  wept,  and  like  David,  who  watered 
his  couch  with  his  tears !  Such  tears  are  the  drink-offering  for 
which  the  Saviour  still  thirsts.  God  grant  that  we  may  approach 
his  throne  with  them !  As  soon  as  this  takes  place,  the  actions 
change,  the  relations  are  reversed.  It  is  then  he  who  gives  us 
to  drink,  and  refreshes  us;  and  we  imbibe  and  enjoy.  And 
blessed  is  he  who  experiences  in  himself  the  truth  of  his  words, 
"Whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him,  shall 
never  thirst;  but  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him,  shall  be  in 
him  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life."  Who 
would  not  say  with  the  Samaritan  woman,  with  reference  to 
such  a  draught,  "Lord,  give  me  this  water,  that  I  thirst  no 
more  I" 


XLIX. 

"IT    IS    FINISHED!" 

These  are  the  greatest  and  most  momentous  words  that  were 
ever  spoken  upon  earth,  since  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Who 
does  not  find  in  them  a  cry  of  victory  ?  It  is  a  shout  of  triumph, 
which  announces  to  the  kingdom  of  darkness  its  complete  over- 
throw and  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  upon  earth  its  eternal 
establishment.  How  wonderful!  At  the  very  moment  when, 
for  the  Hero  of  Judah,  all  seems  lost,  Ms  words  declare  that  all 
is  won  and  accomplished !  Our  Lord's  exclamation  is  like  the 
sound  of  a  heavenly  jubilee-trumpet,  and  announces  to  the  race 
of  Adam,  which  was  under  the  curse,  the  commencement  of  a 
free  and  sabbatic  year,  which  will  ever  more  extensively  display 
its  blessing,  but  never  come  to  an  end.  Listen,  and  it  will  ap- 
pear to  you  as  if  in  the  words,  "  It  is  finished  !"  you  heard  fetters 
burst,  an  I  prison-walls  fall  down.     At  these  words,  barriers  as 


"it  is  FINISHED  1"  429 

high  as  heaven  are  overthrown,  and  gates  which  had  been  closed 
for  thousands  of  years,  again  move  on  their  hinges.  But  what 
was  it  that  was  finished  at  the  moment  when  that  cry  was 
uttered?  The  evangelist  introduces  his  narrative  wiui  the 
words,  "  After  this,  Jesus  knowing  that  all  things  were  accom- 
plished." Only  think — "  All  things  I"  What  more  can  we 
want?  But  wherein  did  they  consist?  We  hasten  to  lift  the 
vail,  and  view  in  detail  what  was  realized  and  brought  about, 
and  may  the  full  peace  be  imparted  to  us  which  the  words,  "  It 
is  finished !"  announce  to  the  world  ! 

"Jesus  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  It  is  finished!"  It  would 
seem  as  if  he  had  wished  to  drink  only  to  make  this  victorious 
cry  sound  forth  with  full  force,  like  the  voice  of  a  herald  or  the 
sound  of  a  trumpet.  The  Lord  has  now  reached  the  termination 
of  his  labors.  He  has  performed  the  stupendous  task  which 
he  undertook  in  the  council  of  peace,  before  the  world  was, 
when  he  said,  u  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God  I"  Death, 
to  which  he  is  on  the  point  of  submitting,  formed  the  summit, 
but  also  the  concluding  act  of  Ins  mediatorial  work.  Only  take 
into  your  hands  the  divine  programme  of  his  vicarious  earthly 
course,  as  compiled  in  types  and  prophecies  in  the  archives  of 
the  Old  Testament,  and  be  convinced  how  it  has  been  most 
minutely  carried  out.  The  mysterious  delineation  of  the  Mes- 
siah, as  it  passes  before  us  in  increasing  brightness  and  complete- 
ness, in  the  writings  of  Moses  and  the  prophets,  is  fully  realized 
in  its  smallest  and  minutest  traits  in  the  person  of  Jesus.  If  i 
you  ask  for  the  wondrous  infant  of  Bethlehem  described  by 
Micah,  "whose  goings  forth  have  been  of  old,  from  everlast- 
ing;" or  for  "the  Child  born,  and  the  Son  given,  with  the  govern- 
ment upon  his  shoulder,"  whom  Isaiah  brings  before  us ;  or  for 
the  meek  and  lowly  King  mentioned  by  Zechariah,  who  makes 
his  entrance  into  Jerusalem  on  the  foal  of  an  ass — it  meets  you 
bodily  in  Jesus  Christ.  Do  you  seek  for  the  seed  of  the  woman, 
who,  with  his  wounded  heel,  bruises  the  serpent's  head ;  or  the 
second  Aaron,  who  should  actually  bring  about  a  reconciliation 
between  God  and  a  sinful  world — look  up  to  the  cross,  and  there 
you  will  see  all  combined  in  One. 

Do  you  look  about  you  for  the  antitype  of  the  brazen  serpent 


430  THE  MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

in  the  wilderness,  or  of  the  paschal  lamb  and  its  delh  ering  blood 
in  Egypt;  or  for  the  exalted  Sufferer,  who  appears  in  the  ap- 
palling descriptions  given  us  in  Psalms  xxii.  and  lxix.,  which 
record  a  malefactor's  awful  doom,  even  to  the  mournful  cry  of 
"  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me !" — all  is 
combined  in  the  bleeding  Saviour  who  hangs  yonder,  and  ex- 
claims, "It  is  finished!"  Then  take  a  retrospective  look  into 
the  writings  of  the  ancient  prophets,  and  what  meets  your  view  ? 
The  ancient  types  have  lost  their  significancy.  They  have  put 
on  flesh  and  blood  in  Jesus  Christ.  Their  importance  to  us  is 
henceforth  limited  to  the  testimony  they  bear  that  the  divinely- 
promised  Messiah  is  indeed  come,  and  that  no  other  is  to  be 
looked  for.  Every  condition  of  the  work  of  human  redemption 
had  been  fulfilled  at  the  moment  when  Christ  uttered  the  words, 
"  It  is  finished !"  with  the  exception  of  one,  which  was  included 
and  taken  for  granted  in  them,  because  it  inevitably  awaited 
him,  and  actually  took  place  immediately  afterward — thus  bring- 
ing the  whole  to  a  perfect  conclusion. 

That  which  still  remained  unaccomplished  clearly  proves 
that  Jesus  did  not  hang  on  the  cross  on  his  own  account,  but  as 
our  representative.  It  was  our  death.  The  laws  of  nature  for- 
bade that  a  green  and  thoroughly  healthy  tree,  which  was  rooted 
in  eternity,  should  bleed  and  sink  beneath  the  blows  of  "  the 
last  enemy."  It  was  contrary  to  the  divine  government  that 
One,  who  had  not,  with  Adam,  tasted  the  forbidden  fruit,  should 
nevertheless  fall  under  the  sentence  pronounced  upon  the  latter, 
"  In  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt  surely  die !" 
It  was  also  entirely  opposed  to  the  immutable  and  fundamental 
statutes  of  the  sanctuary,  that  a  tribute  should  be  demanded  of 
a  righteous  person,  which  is  there  expressly  indicated  as  the 
wages  of  sin.  It  was  at  variance  with  the  express  promise  of 
the  Most  High — "  This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live" — that  One,  who 
did  not  leave  unfulfilled  one  iota  of  the  divine  commands,  should 
not  live,  but  die.  He  himself  repeatedly  declared  that  the 
universal  law  of  mortality  had,  abstractedly  considered,  no 
claim  upon  his  person.  He  asserted  most  pointedly,  that  no 
one,  not  even  his  Father  in  heaven,  took  away  his  life,  but  that 
he  laid  it  voluntarily  down.      Truly,  the  death  of  Jesus  would 


"it  is  finished!"  431 

have  shaken  the  throne  of  the  Almighty  to  its  foundations,  have 
broken  through  the  ordinances  of  his  house,  and  violated  all  the 
statutes  of  the  divine  government,  if  it  were  not  permitted  us  to 
cany  the  idea  of  it  beyond  the  bounds  of  such  a  death  as  all 
experience. 

These   considerations  compel  us — irrespective   of  any  revela- 
tion which  the  Scriptures  afford — to  regard  the  death  of  Christ 
as  something  extraordinary  and  unique  in  its  kind.     And  cer- 
tainly, it  is  a  fact  which   stands   solitary  in  history,  and  with 
which  none  besides  can  compare.     He  who,  according  to  divine 
right,  was  exempt  from  death,  freely  submitted  to  it  in  our  stead, 
as  the  last  bitter  drop  of  the  accursed  cup.     Whether  you  be- 
lieve this  or  not,  the  Scriptures  most  expressly  affirm  it  in  many 
and  powerful  words.     They  tell  us,  that  "  Christ  tasted  death  by 
the  grace  of  G-od,"  and  therefore  not  as  the  result  of  a  natural 
necessity.     They  say,  "  In  that  he  died,  he  died  unto  sin."     And 
when  they  assert  that,  u  If  One  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead," 
it  points  out  the  vicarious  nature  of  his  death  so  plainly,  that  I 
know  not  how  it  could  be  more  clearly  expressed.     If,  by  his 
death,  he  paid  the  wages  of  sin  for  us,  his  death  naturally  could 
not  resemble  Elijah's  ascent  to  heaven,  nor  the  cheerful  striking- 
sail  of  old  Simeon,  nor  the  exulting  triumph  of  a  Stephen,  nor 
the  peaceful  going  home  of  a  John,  nor  such  a  falling  asleep  as 
is  granted  at  present  to  thousands  of  believers  under  the  smile  of 
heaven,  and  with  the  joy  of  redemption  upon  their  lips.     No; 
an  eternal  statute  required  that  he  should  yield,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, to  the  stroke  of  the  king  of  terrors,  and  taste  the  death  to 
which  the  first  Adam  was  sentenced.      Under  its  horrors  he 
bowed  his  head.     Observe  the  continued  silence   on  high  con- 
cerning   him — the    appalling    restraint    upon    all    the  heavenly 
powers — the  three  hours'  darkness  in  which  he  was  involved — 
and  the   jeers  and  blasphemies  which  assail  him  from  below. 
Truly,  in  all  this  you  perceive  no  cheering  picture  of  the  state  in 
which  he  descends  into  the  gloomy  vale  of  death.     No ;  he  does 
not  die  on  the  downy  couch  of  a  pre-assumed  blessedness,  as  many 
of  the  poorest  sinners  now  die,  at  his  expense.     Nevertheless, 
he   dies  in   the  crown  of  triumph.     At  the  moment  when  his 
heart  ceased  to  beat,  the  words,  "It  is  finished !"  revealed  the 


432  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

entire  fullness  of  their  meaning.  He  had  now  reached  the  final 
completion  of  his  work  of  redemption.  The  exclamation,  "It 
is  finished!"  resounded  in  heaven,  and  awoke  hallelujahs  to 
the  Lamb  which  shall  never  more  be  mute.  They  reverberated 
through  the  abodes  of  darkness,  like  the  thunders  of  God,  an- 
nouncing the  termination  of  the  dominion  of  their  prince.  But 
a  more  blissful  sound  on  earth  does  not  strike  the  ear  of  the 
penitent  sinner  to  this  hour  than  the  words,  "It  is  finished!" 
It  is  as  the  sound  of  the  great  jubilee-trumpet,  and  the  proc- 
lamation of  an  eternal  salvation. 

Yes,  my  readers,  we  are  delivered.  There  is  no  longer  any 
cause  for  anxiety,  except  in  the  case  of  those  who  refuse  to 
acknowledge  their  sinfulness,  and,  lost  in  pharisaic  self-suffi- 
oiency,  turn  their  backs  on  the  Man  of  Sorrows  on  the  cross. 
But  if  we  are  otherwise  minded,  and,  honoring  truth,  have 
judged  and  condemned  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  God,  then 
come !  No  more  circuitous  paths — no  fruitless  efforts  to  help 
yourselves — no  vain  recourse  to  the  empty  cisterns  of  this  world, 
whatever  proud  names  they  may  bear !  The  voice  of  peace  is 
heard  on  Calvary.  0  that  we  were  solemnly  conscious  how 
much  was  done  for  us  there!  Great  was  our  guilt;  we  were 
condemned  to  death,  and  the  curse  lay  upon  us ;  but  all  is  done 
away  in  the  words,  "It  is  finished!"  If  lie  has  paid  the 
ransom,  how  can  a  righteous  God  in  heaven  demand  payment  a 
second  time  ?  Know  you  not  the  assertion  of  the  apostle, 
"There  is  now  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ 
Jesus !"  Let  us  give  our  whole  hearts  to  liim,  and  neither  the 
multitude  nor  the  heinousness  of  our  sins  need  appall  us.  His 
closed  eyes,  his  death-like  visage,  his  pierced  hands  and  feet, 
oblige  us,  even  for  the  glorifying  of  his  name,  to  oppose  not  only 
the  infernal  accuser  and  the  judge  in  our  own  breasts,  but  even 
Moses,  the  administrator  of  eternal  justice,  with  the  apostle' 
watchword,  "Who  is  he  that  condemneth,  since  Christ  hath 
died?" 

What  invaluable  fruit,  therefore,  do  we  reap  from  the  tree  of 
the  cross !  That  which  the  Saviour  accomplished  by  his  death, 
was  not  merely  the  work  of  satisfaction  to  divine  justice,  by 
which  he  removed  the  curse  from  our  heads,  but  likewise  his 


"it  is  finished  I"  433 

representative  obedience,  which  is  henceforth  imputed  to  his 
believing  people,  as  the  righteousness  which  avails  in  the  sight 
of  God.  Along  with  the  sentence,  "Depart  from  me,  ye 
cursed !"  is  also  the  "  Mene,  Tekel,"  erased  from  our  walls,  and 
in  its  stead  we  read  the  mighty  words,  "  Ye  are  washed,  ye  are 
sanctified,  ye  are  justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus."  And 
that  we  are  so  is  confirmed  to  us  by  the  fact  that  God  now 
lovingly  inclines  toward  us,  breathes  his  Spirit  into  us,  leads 
us  in  bonds  of  mercy  and  kindness,  and  as  soon  as  we  have 
finished  our  course,  opens  the  gates  of  his  heavenly  mansions  to 
us.  But  that  condemned  sinners  are*  regarded  as  holy  before 
God,  without  any  infringement  on  his  justice,  holiness,  and 
truth,  is  intimated  by  that  which  the  suffering  Saviour  accom- 
plished on  the  cross.  Even  the  twenty-second  Psalm  asserts 
that  tins  would  be  the  consequence  of  his  death,  since,  in  the 
last  verse  it  is  said,  "  They  shall  come  and  shall  declare  his 
righteousness  unto  a  people  that  shall  be  born,  that  he  hath  done 
this."  How  just  and  well  founded  is,  therefore,  the  victorious 
cry,  "It  is  finished!"  with  which  the  Lord,  after  performing 
his  work,  inclined  his  head  to  rest ! 

After  these  elucidations,  you  will  easily  understand  the  enig- 
matical words  in  Heb.  x.  14,  "  With  one  offering  he  hath  for- 
ever perfected  them  that  are  sanctified."  Yes,  by  the  one  act 
of  the  offering  up  of  himself,  he  has  so  laid  the  foundation  for 
all  who  believe  in  him,  of  their  justification,  sanctification,  and 
redemption,  that  they  may  now  unhesitatingly  rejoice  in  the 
first  as  an  accomplished  fact ;  that  they  bear  in  them  the  second, 
indeed,  only  as  a  germ,  but*  such  a  one  as  strives,  by  an  in- 
ward necessity,  for  a  perfect  future  development ;  and  that  they 
have  the  third  as  surely  and  certainly  in  prospect,  as  Christ  their 
representative  has  already  taken  possession,  in  their  names,  of 
the  glorious  and  heavenly  inheritance.  As  respects  the  capa- 
bility, groundwork,  and  rudiments,  there  is,  therefore,  in  every 
believer,  the  ideal  man — the  man  of  the  future  glorified  world, 
already  created  and  presented  to  God.  A  creative  act  of  a 
spiritual  kind  was  accomplished  on  the  cross;  and  when  that 
which  was  there  created,  shall  have  attained  to  its  perfect  develop- 
ment, and  have  laid  aside   all  its  earthly  vails  and  coverings, 

19 


434  THE   MOST    HOLY   PLACE. 

the  full  truth  of  the  triumphal  shout,  "  It  is  finished  "  will  be- 
come apparent,  and  the  entire  extent  of  its  signification  be 
revealed  to  us. 

For  know  that  the  eye  of  the  crucified  Saviour,  on  uttering 
these  sublime  words,  rested  not  merely  on  individual  sinners,  for 
whose  return  to  their  paradisaic  state  he  prepared  the  blood- 
stained path,  but  also  on  the  whole  world  at  large.  It  was  then 
that  he  satisfied  the  desire  of  all  nations,  as  expressed  for  thou- 
sands of  years,  in  mysterious  usages  and  religious  rites,  legends, 
songs,  and  imagery,  and  could  now  most  justly  call  the  whole 
world  his  own.  He  had  dissolved  the  ban  that  lay  upon  it — had. 
snatched  it  from  the  curse  winch  justice  had  impended  over  it, 
and  had  rent  from  the  powers  of  darkness  the  desolate  earth, 
which,  by  the  divine  decision,  had  fallen  to  them  on  account  of 
sin,  had  conquered  it  for  himself,  and  consecrated  it  to  be  the 
scene  of  his  future  kingdom.  There  is,  consequently,  nothing 
more  groundless  than  the  fear  that  the  earth  may  again  become 
in  perpetuity  a  fief  of  the  prince  of  darkness,  or  a  wilderness  and 
desert  of  barbarism  and  sin.  The  blood  of  Christ  claims  its 
transformation  into  an  abode  of  righteousness — its  renovation  to 
a  paradise — its  renewed  amalgamation  with  heaven;  and  the 
Eternal  Father  who  has  solemnly  sworn  to  his  Son,  saying, 
u  Ask  of  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  the  heathen  for  an  inheritance, 
and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  a  possession,"  will  not 
refuse  to  listen  to  the  claims  of  the  blood  of  his  only-begotten 
Son.  "Whatever  confusion  and  desolation  may  yet  come  upon 
our  world,  its  future  is  secure.  On  the  cross,  the  ground  of  its 
inevitable  transformation  and  glorification  was  laid,  and  the 
Holy  Spirit  was  commmissioned  not  to  rest,  till  at  the  cost  of 
Immanuel,  the  great  work  of  that  new  creation  shall  have  been 
completed.  The  model  he  has  to  realize  has  long  been  ha 
to  him.  Do  you  wish  to  see  the  heavenly  programme,  which  is 
to  serve  him  as  the  standard  of  his  working  and  operation  ?  the 
wish  can  be  granted  you.  The  prophet  Isaiah  displays  it  before 
you  in  the  sixty-fifth  chapter  of  his  prophecy,  where  you  may 
read  as  follows,  from  the  seventeenth  verse :  "  Behold,  I  create 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  and  the  former  shall  not  be  re- 
membered nor  come  into  mind.     But  be  ye  glad  and  rejoice 


"it  is  finished!*9  435 

forever  in  that  which  I  create ;  for  behold,  I  create  Jerusalem 
a  rejoicing,  and  her  people  a  joy.  And  I  will  rejoice  in  Jeru- 
salem, and  joy  in  my  people ;  and  the  voice  of  weeping  shall  no 
more  be  heard  in  her,  nor  the  voice  of  crying.  There  shall  \& 
no  more  thence  an  infant  of  days,  nor  an  eld  man  that  hath  not 
filled  his  days ;  for  the  child  shall  die  an  hundred  years  old,  but 
the  sinner  being  an  hundred  years  old  shall  be  accursed.  And 
they  shall  build  houses  and  inhabit  them ;  and  they  shall  plant 
vineyards  and  eat  the  fruit  of  them.  They  shall  not  build  and 
another  inhabit;  they  shall  not  plant  and  another  eat;  for  as 
the  days  of  a  tree  are  the  days  of  my  people,  and  mine  elect 
shall  long  enjoy  the  work  of  their  hands.  They  shall  not  labor 
in  vain,  nor  bring  forth  for  trouble,  for  they  are  the  seated  of  the 
blessed  of  the  Lord,  and  their  offspring  with  them.  And  it 
shall  come  to  pass,  that  before  they  call,  I  will  answer,  and 
while  they  are  yet  speaking  I  will  hear.  The  wolf  and 
the  lamb  shall  feed  together,  and  the  lion  shall  eat  straw 
like  the  bullock,  and  dust  shall  be  the  serpent's  meat.  They 
shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  my  holy  mountain,  saith  the 
Lord." 

When  the  glorious  representations  which  are  here  given  us 
become  life  and  reality,  we  shall  then  be  truly  conscious  in  what 
a  stupendous  and  comprehensive  sense  the  dying  Redeemer 
uttered  the  words,  "It  is  finished!"  At  that  moment,  the 
entire  fullness  of  deliverance  and  glorification  there  depicted,  had 
been  won  by  him,  and  the  new  world,  in  all  the  prehminary 
conditions  of  its  realization,  was  formed. 

Let  us  avail  ourselves,  then,  of  the  treasures  of  consolation 
and  hope  which  lie  concealed  for  us  in  the  words,  "It  is 
finished  1"  Beating  our  breasts,  let  us  more  closely  encircle  the 
cross,  and  derive  from  the  death  of  the  Redeemer,  along  with 
the  blissful  consciousness  that  our  sins  are  forgiven  us,  desire, 
courage,  and  strength,  to  live  henceforth  only  to  Him  who  gave 
such  an  invaluable  ransom  for  us.  If  we  now  wish  to  see  what 
He  has  made  of  us,  poor  children  of  Adam,  by  the  offering  up  of 
himself,  let  us  cast  a  look  at  the  Church  triumphant  above.  The 
just  made  perfect  there  were  once  people  like  ourselves. 
Among    them    are    the    malefactor,    the    publican,    Magdalen, 


436  THE  MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

Zacchasus,  and  a  host  of  other  poor  sinners.  Wuo  recognizes 
them  in  their  glorified  state,  their~shining  garments  and  unfading 
crowns  of  life  before  the  throne  of  God?  But  if  you  would 
l£how  how  they  attained  to  this  glory,  listen  to  what  is  said  in 
the  book  of  Kevelations :  "  These  are  they  that  have  come  out 
of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes  and  made 
them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb."  See,  my  friends,  this  is 
the  whole  of  the  mystery.  In  those  saints  the  words,  "It  is 
finished!"  have,  as  it  were,  assumed  a  form.  They  display  to 
us  the  entire  greatness  of  the  expression.  They  form  its  living 
and  visible  commentary.  Let  us  therefore  follow  in  their  steps. 
No  other  banner  but  the  cross  accompanies  us  to  the  city  of 
God.  Let  us  join  the  band  of  travelers  who  follow  this  oriflamme, 
and  let  the  full-toned  echo,  which  resounds  from  the  depth  of  our 
hearts,  to  the  cry,  "It  is  finished!"  be  heard  both  now,  and 
especially  in  our  last  hour,  "  AVho  is  he  that  conderuneth,  since 
Christ  hath  died?" 


L. 


"FATHER,  INTO  THY  HANDS  I  COMMIT  MY 
SPIRIT !» 

We  return  to  Calvary.  Let  devout  and  peaceful  recollections 
possess  our  minds.  We  are  entering  a  sanctuary.  Is  there, 
generally  speaking,  any  thing  on  earth  more  solemn  and  affecting 
than  dying  moments,  in  which  time  and  eternity  meet  each 
other,  and  in  the  silence  of  which  we  seem  to  hear  the  striking 
of  the  hours  of  another  world  ?  What  ought  we  then  to  feel  at 
a  deathbed,  such  as  that  we  are  now  to  contemplate,  and  at  the 
moment  in  which  the  Redeemer  bows  his  head  and  expires 
Lift  up  your  eyes.  0  what  a  dying  bed  has  been  prepared 
yonder  for  the  Father's  beloved  Son !  No  one  wipes  the  per- 
spiration from  his  brow.  No  one  cheers  him  with  the  words  of 
life.  No  one  pronounces  the  final  benediction  over  him.  Who- 
ever left  the  world  more  forsaken  and  involved  in  deeper  shades 
than  he?    Yet  do  not  mistake  him.     It  is  not  a  conflict  in 


"FATHER,  INTO  THY  HANDS  I  COMMIT  MY  SPIRIT!"      437 

which  we  see  him  engaged,  but  a  sacrificial  act.  He  does  not 
yield  to  death  like  us,  but  devotes  himself  to  it  after  havin°- 
previously  invested  it  with  the  power  over  his  life. 

What  is  death?  For  thousands  of  years,  as  you  know,  has 
the  gloomy  and  universally  dreaded  being,  known  under  that 
name,  been  in  the  world,  and  carried  on  in  it  his  dreadful  work 
of  destruction.  It  is  not  a  thing  that  exists,  but  is  the  fate  and 
destiny  of  our  race.  The  young  creation,  as  it  came  forth  from 
the  hand  of  the  Almighty,  knew  not  this  monster.  There  all 
was  life  and  harmony,  undisturbed  by  any  such  discord  as  death. 
The  gloomy  phantom  was  first  known  in  the  world  only  by  the 
divine  threatening  connected  with  eating  of  the  forbidden  fruit 
In  consequence  of  the  fall,  it  entered  upon  the  stage  of  reality, 
in  order,  thenceforward,  as  the  king  of  terrors,  to  subject  every 
thing  that  breathed  to  Ins  awful  scepter.  Our  first  parents  were 
the  first  who  beheld  it  display  its  power  and  majesty  on  their 
beloved  Abel.  0  what  a  terrible  object  was  that  which  they 
were  called  to  witness!  There  lay  the  blooming  youth  in  the 
dust.  The  light  of  his  eyes  was  extinguished ;  his  lips  no  longer 
uttered  words  of  kindness  and  affection ;  his  limbs,  pale  as  the 
lily,  and  stiff  as  the  cold  marble.  However  loudly  they  called 
his  name,  he  opened  his  eyes  no  more.  However  much  they 
conjured  him  with  tears  to  let  them  hear  his  voice  once  more, 
he  was  silent,  and  the  floods  of  tears  which  they  shed  over  him 
no  longer  caused  his  pulse  to  beat.  And  before  they  were  aware, 
corruption,  with  leaden  weight,  and  a  thousand  horrors,  took 
possession  of  the  corpse,  and  the  poor  parents,  in  spite  of  all 
their  affection,  were  obliged  to  turn  away  their  faces  from  it 
with  horror,  and  hasten  to  inter  him,  who  was  dear  to  them  as 
the  apple  of  their  eye,  beneath  the  sod  as  food  for  worms. 
They  then  knew,  though  only  in  part,  what  was  meant  by  death. 
From  that  moment,  death  continued  its  dreadful  sway  over  the 
earth,  dropped  its  gall  into  every  cup  of  joy,  surrounded  every 
loving  bond  with  the  mourning  drapery  of  the  certain  prospect, 
that  sooner  or  later  the  hour  of  separation  and  dissolution  would 
arrive,  and  overspread  all  nature  with  a  black  funeral  pall,  even 
where  it  bloomed  the  loveliest  And  as  he  has  acted  for  thou- 
sands of  years,  he  does  to  this  day.     But  he  who  first  became 


438  THE   MOST   HOLT  PLACE. 

folly  acquainted  with  the  monster,  and  was  conscious  of  the 
horrors  that  were  hidden  beneath  its  exterior,  and  learned  that  the 
separation  of  the  body  from  the  soul,  which  it  effects,  as  well  as 
the  dissolution  of  the  former  in  the  kingdom  of  corruption,  was 
only  the  mildest  of  its  doings,  since  as  God's  judicial  messenger 
it  has  also  orders  to  deliver  up  the  sinner  to  hell,  will  fully 
coincide  with  the  son  of  Sirach,  and  say,  "  0  death,  how  bitter 
art  thou!"  But  certainly  he  will  rejoice  only  the  more  loudly 
when  he  hears,  that  there  is  one  who  can  testify  of  himself, 
saying,  "  I  have  the  keys  of  hell  and  of  death!"  And  does  such 
a  "being  exist?  you  inquire.  Yes,  my  readers,  you  will  now 
behold  his  bleeding  face. 

The  payment  of  the  wages  of  sin  is  due  only  from  sinners. 
The  Holy  One  of  Israel  had  nothing  in  common  with  death 
What  is  it,  then,  that  we  witness  on  Calvary?  Look  up! 
After  having  uttered  the  great  and  triumphant  shout,  "It  is 
finished!"  he  again  moves  his  lips  to  speak.  What  will  follow ? 
A  mournful  farewell  ?  A  plaintive  exclamation  of,  "  I  must 
depart  hence?"  A  painfully  faltering  out  of  the  words,  "My 
senses  forsake  me.  I  succumb,  and  am  going  the  way  of  all 
flesh  ?"  0  not  so !  Listen !  With  a  loud  voice,  and  the 
strength  and  emphasis  of  one  who  does  not  die  from  weakness, 
nor  dying  pays  a  forced  tribute  to  a  mournful  necessity ;  but  as 
one  who  is  Lord  over  death,  and  voluntarily  yields  himself  up  to 
it,  he  exclaims — and  the  noise  of  rending  rocks,  falling  hills,  and 
bursting  sepulchers  accompany  his  cry — "Father,  into  thy 
hands  I  commit  my  Spirit!"  and  after  these  words,  like  one  whose 
labor  is  finished,  he  bows,  self-acting,  his  bleeding  head  upon 
his  breast,  and  resigns  his  Spirit,  or,  as  John  expresses  it,  "  gives 
up  the  ghost."  But  before  we  treat  of  the  mighty  results  which 
proceed 'from  his  death,  let  us  for  a  moment  immerse  ourselves 
in  the  consideration  of  the  parting  word'j  of  the  Divine  Sufferer. 

"Father!"  he  begins.  He  is,  therefore,  again  conscious  of 
his  Father,  although  at  first  only  by  faith.  The  first  word  we 
hear  from  his  lips  on  earth  was  his  father's  name,  and  it  is 
also  the  last.  All  his  thoughts  and  deeds,  desires  and  efforts, 
tended  toward  his  Father  and  the  glorifying  of  his  name.  To 
accomplish  his  Father's  will  was  his  mea*  and  drink;  the  love 


"FATHER,  INTO  THY  HANDS  I  COMMIT  MY  SPIRIT  !"      439 

of  his  Father  his  delight  and  bliss;  and  union  with  him  the 
summit  of  all  his  hopes  and  desires.  With  the  heraldic  and  con- 
quering cry,  "  It  is  finished  !"  he  turned  once  more  to  the  world. 
It  was  his  farewell  to  earth — a  farewell  such  as  beseemed  the 
Conqueror  of  Death,  the  Prince  of  Life,  the  Governor  of  all 
things.  He  then  withdrew  himself  entirely  into  connection  with 
his  God,  and  turned  his  face  to  him  alone. 

':  Father !"  This  sound  was  the  utterance  of  regained  and 
strong  filial  confidence,  but  not  the  exclamation  of  one  who  had 
fully  attained  to  rest  in  his  Father's  bosom.  We  must  still 
regard  the  words,  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commit  my  Spirit," 
as  the  war-cry  of  a  warrior  engaged  m  battle.  Hell,  which 
raged  around  him,  did  not  give  up  its  cause  as  lost,  but  con- 
tinued to  assault  him  in  every  way,  and  to  distress  him  with 
terrific  imagery ;  and  the  act  of  death  cost  him,  who  was  the 
Life,  no  small  effort.  "We?  must,  therefore,  imagine  to  ourselves 
the  Saviour's  dying  exclamation  as  that  of  one  sorely  oppressed, 
who  is  struggling  to  place  Ins  soul  in  a  secure  asylum,  and  flees 
from  a  horrid  pressure  into  the  hands  of  the  Almighty;  and 
that  this  taking  refuge  occurs  with  the  peace  and  assurance  of 
complete  victory.  The  idea  does  not  even  remotely  present 
itself  to  him,  that  death  could  be  any  thing  more  than  a  transfer 
of  the  Spirit  into  a  different  sphere  of  existence.  He  is  exalted, 
high  as  heaven,  above  the  miserable  human  inquiry,  "  To  be  or 
not  to  be  ?;'  He  knows  that  he  falls  asleep  only  to  awake  on 
the  bosom  of  God;  and  in  this  consciousness,  in  which  he 
already  sees  the  arms  of' his  Father  lovingly  extended  to  receive 
him,  he  exclaims,  "Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commit  my  Spirit!" 
He  takes  these  words  from  Psalm  xxxi.,  except  that  lie  pn 
them  with  the  word  u.  Father,"  which  gives  the  appropriate  form 
to  his  position  and  dignity,  and  leaves  out  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist  which  immediately  follow,  "For  thou  hast  redeemed 
me,"  as  not  belonging  to  him  who,  as  the  Kedeemer  of  the 
world,  hung  upon  the  cross.  But  still  how  significant  it  is,  that 
he  left  the  world  with  a  passage  of  Scripture  on  his  lips?  He 
was  completely  imbued  with  the  word  of  God,  and  even  dying, 
gives  us  a  hint  respecting  what  ought  to  be  the  nourishment  of 
our  inner  man. 


440  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

His  last  cry  is  uttered.  He  then  inclines  his  head,  after  his 
well  and  fully-accomplished  work,  and  the  most  unheard-of  event 
takes  place — the  Son  of  the  living  God  becomes  a  corpse !  We 
stand  affected,  astonished,  and  sink  in  adoration;  and  what  is 
left  for  us  but  to  pour  out  our  hearts  in  the  words  of  the  poet : 

"  Our  spirits  join  to  adore  the  Lamb. 

0  that  our  feeble  tongues  could  move 
In  strains  immortal  as  his  name, 
And  melting  as  his  dying  love ! 

"  In  vain  our  mortal  voices  strive 
To  speak  compassion  so  divine ; 
Nor  can  seraphic  strains  arrive 
At  such  amazing  love  as  thine." 

Where  was  the  Lord  Jesus  after  his  departure  from  the  body  ? 
Where  else  than  whither  his  desires  and  longing  carried  him — 
in  the  hands  of  his  Father.  Heaven  celebrated  his  triumph; 
the  music  of  angelic  harps  saluted  his  ears ;  the  just  made  per- 
fect before  the  throne  shouted  their  adoring  and  rejoicing  wel- 
come ;  and  the  new  song  began,  "  Thou  art  worthy  to  take  the 
book,  and  to  open  the  seals  thereof,  for  thou  wast  slain  and  hast 
redeemed  us  to  G-od  by  thy  blood,  out  of  every  kindred,  and 
tongue,  and  people,  and  nation,  and  hast  made  us  kings  and  priests 
unto  God,  and  we  shall  reign  on  the  earth." — Eev.  v.  9,  10. 

But  it  is  undeniable  that  mysterious  passages  of  Scripture 
intimate  that  the  Prince  of  Peace,  after  having  laid  aside  his 
earthly  body,  had  by  no  means  concluded  his  mission.  For  the 
Apostle  Peter  says  in  his  first  Epistle,  iii.  19,  20,  that  Christ 
went  in  the  Spirit — that  is,  divested  of  his  bodily  personality — 
"  and  preached  unto  the  spirits  in  prison,  which  sometime  were 
disobedient,  when  once  the  long-suffering  of  God  waited,  in  the 
days  of  Noah,  while  the  ark  was  preparing."  And  supported 
by  this  passage  especially,  the  apostle's  creed  asserts  a  descent 
into  hell,  immediately  after  the  death  of  Christ.  But  the  ex- 
planation of  this  passage  requires  great  caution.  That  to  which 
Peter  refers,  belongs  by  no  means  to  any  further  abasement  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  much  less  to  his  work  of  atonement.     The  satis- 


"FATHER,  INTO  THY  HANDS  I  COMMIT  MY  SPIRIT!"      441 

faction  rendered  by  the  Surety  was  finally  completed  at  the 
moment  of  his  death.  Now,  if  Christ  entered  the  habitations  of 
those  departed  spirits  of  the  antediluvian  world,  it  was  in  order 
to  announce  his  victory  to  them,  as  the  words  in  the  original 
expressly  intimate.  That  it  was  also  in  order  to  preach  repent- 
ance and  offer  faith  to  them,  and  then  to  conduct  those  who 
believed,  as  living  trophies  with  him  into  heaven,  we  are  induced 
to  think,  when  combining  it  with  those  other  words  of  the  same  j 
apostle,  chap.  iv.  6,  ''For  this  cause  was  the  Gospel  preached 
also  to  them  that  are  dead,  that  they  might  be  judged  according 
to  men  in  the  flesh,  but  live  according  to  G-od  in  the  Spirit."  In 
every  case  we  must  be  content  with  not  having  reached  the  con- 
clusion of  the  exposition  of  these  passages ;  and  hence  a  vail  of 
mystery  continues  to  rest  upon  the  sojourn  of  Christ,  during  the 
interval  between  the  moment  of  his  death  and  that  of  his  re- 
union with  the  body,  as  well  as  upon  the  correct  and  full  mean- 
ing of  the  words,  "  He  descended  into  hell." 

But  the  reason  of  Christ's  death  stands,  on  the  contrary,  fully 
unvailed  before  us.  Even  a  superficial  consideration  suffices  to 
give  us,  at  least,  an  idea  of  the  cause  of  it.  It  must,  first  of  all, 
appear  extremely  striking  that  an  individual  dies  who  could 
testify  respecting  himself,  that  he  was  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life ;  who,  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  at  the  bier  of  the  young  man 
of  ISTain,  and  at  the  deathbed  of  the  daughter  of  Jairus,  mani- 
fested that  he  was  Lord  over  death,  and  who  had  never  com- 
mitted a  single  sin  by  which,  in  accordance  with  the  threatening 
in  paradise,  he  had  forfeited  his  life.  Still  more  does  it  surprise 
us  that  he  becomes  a  prey  to  death,  who,  because  according  to 
his  own  assertion,  no  one  took  away  his  life  from  him,  only 
requiring  to  will  it,  in  order  to  escape  such  a  catastrophe,  and 
that  this  man  expires  under  circumstances  which  would  lead  one 
to  suppose  that  he  was  a  malefactor  and  a  rebel,  rejected  both 
by  God  and  the  world,  rather  than  a  righteous  man,  and  even  a 
universal  benefactor  of  mankind. 

That  he  died  voluntarily,  is  evident  to  every  one  at  first  sight. 
But  for  what  end  did  he  die  this  voluntary  death  ?  Was  it  to 
give  us  the  example  of  a  heroic  departure  from  the  world? 
By  no  means.     How  do  the  words  he  spake  correspond  with 

19* 


442  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

such  an  object ?  "I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with,  and 
how  am  I  straitened  until  it  is  accomplished !"  Was  it  in  order 
to  show  us  that  dying  is  an  easy  thing  ?  Stephen  has  certainly 
given  us  an  instance  of  this  in  his  exit  from  the  world,  but  not  the 
man  whom  we  hear  moaning  in  the  dark  valley,  and  exclaiming, 
u  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?"  It  is  usual, 
from  these  words,  to  point  out  the  intention  of  his  death,  but 
without  rightly  knowing  what  they  mean ;  for  Jesus  dies,  neither 
in  a  conflict  against  Israel's  foes,  nor  in  an  attempt  to  deliver 
from  a  burning  city  or  a  devastating  inundation. 

Many,  again,  suppose  that  he  died  to  confirm  his  doctrine. 
But  which  doctrine  did  he  seal  on  the  cross  ?  Was  it  this,  that 
God  is  with  the  righteous  ?  or  this,  that  "  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
encampeth  about  them  that  fear  him,  aud  delivereth  them  ?" 
or  this,  that  "godliness  hath  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
is?"  I  know  *  not  what  fresh  support  these  truths  have  found 
in  the  circumstances  of  his  death ;  sooner  should  we  think  we 
found  proof  in  them  to  the  contrary.  Besides,  no  one  doubted 
of  these  truths,  so  as  to  require  a  renewed  practical  confirmation 
of  them.  If  Christ  confirmed  any  thing  by  his  death,  it  was  his 
assertion  on  oath,  with  which  he  answered  the  high  priest's 
question,  "Art  thou  the  Son  of  the  living  God?"  On  account 
of  this  affirmation,  they  nailed  him  to  the  cross.  But  that  true 
to  his  inmost  conviction,  he  continued  firmly  to  abide  by  it,  he 
testified  by  his  sanguinary  death. 

The  fact  that  he  died  as  such,  certainly  makes  the  mystery 
of  his  death  complete ;  but  the  seals  of  this  mystery  are  opened, 
and  its  depths  revealed.  Men  enlightened  from  above,  stand 
ready  to  afford  us  every  wished-for  elucidation.  They  draw 
near  to  us  at  the  cross,  from  the  times  of  both  the  old  and  new 
covenant,  and  their  statements  illumine,  like  the  candlestick  in 
the  temple,  the  darkness  of  Calvary.  One  of  the  divine  heralds 
heads  the  phalanx  with  testifying  that  Christ  "restored  what 
he  took  not  away."  Another  exclaims,  "He  was  wounded  for 
our  transgressions,  the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  him, 
and  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed."  A  third,  "Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world !"  A  fourth, 
"  God  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us  who  knew  no  sin. "     And  a^ain 


"  FATHER,  INTO  THY  HANDS  I  COMMIT  MY  SPIRIT !"      443 

u  Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  beino- 
made  a  curse  for  us ;"  and  again,  "  Christ  hath  reconciled  us  by 
the  body  of  his  flesh,  through  death;"  and  again,  "With  one 
offering  he  hath  perfected  forever  them  that  are  sanctified." 
And  with  the  testimonies  of  these  messengers  of  God,  are  com- 
bined these  of  the  Lord  himself.  For  instance,  "  The  Son  of 
Man  came  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many;"  and  again, 
"  Except  a  grain  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth 
alone,  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much  fruit."  And  more 
especially,  the  words  of  the  institution  of  the  sacrament  of  his 
body  and  blood,  broken  and  shed  for  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 

But  it  may  be  said,  "  We  hear  these  words,  but  are  not  they 
which  should  explain  to  us  this  mystery  themselves  hieroglyphics 
which  require  deciphering?"  They  are  so;  and  in  order  to 
understand  them  it  requires  a  previous  consecration,  which, 
however,  is  not  imparted  by  anointing  or  laying  on  of  hands  in 
temples  of  human  erection,  but  in  the  privacy  of  the  closet, 
amid  grief  and  tears.  Rouse  yourselves,  therefore,  from  your 
delusions:  leave  the  magic  circle  of  deception  into  which  you 
are  banned,  and  enter  into  the  light  of  truth ;  and  after  having 
become  acquainted  with  the  Eternal,  in  his  nature,  as  the  thrice 
holy  Lord  God-  of  Sabaoth,  in  its  whole  extent,  and  having 
received  an  impression  of  the  majesty  of  his  law,  investigate  the 
nature  of  sin,  reflect  in  what  manner  it  is  odious  in  the  sight 
of  God,  then  weigh  yourselves  in  the  balances  in  which  God 
will  at  length  weigh  you,  and,  with  your  estrangement  from 
God,  become  conscious  of  your  need  of  reconciliation  and  redemp- 
tion, and  in  a  short  time,  the  words  you  have  just  read,  will 
burn  like  flaming  torches  before  you,  and  the  sanguinary  and 
enigmatical  exhibition  on  the  cross,  will  become  clear  as  the 
day  before  the  eyes  of  your  spirits.  You  will  then  behold  in 
the  Man  of  Sorrows,  the  Mediator  between  God  and  you,  and 
rejoicingly  embrace  in  his  death,  the  sacrifice  that  outweighed 
all  your  guilt,  and  justified  you  forever  in  the  sight  of  God. 

"Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commit  my  Spirit  1"  0  what  did 
he  not  commit  to  his  Father's  hands  when  uttering  these  words  I 
"And  being  made  perfect,"  writes  the  apostlr,  Beb.  v.  9,  "he 
became  the  author  of  salvatio  l  to  all  them  that  obey  him."     It 


444  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

was,  therefore,  necessary  that  he  himself  should  be  perfected, 
as  righteous,  by  fulfilling  the  whole  law ;  as  holy,  by  victoriously 
overcoming  every  temptation ;  as  Surety,  by  the  payment  of  all 
our  debts;  and  as  Mediator  and  Reconciler,  by  emptying  the 
whole  of  the  cup  of  curse  allotted  to  us.  In  all  these  respects 
he  was  perfected  the  moment  he  expired,  and  thus -he  deposited 
in  his  Father's  hands,  along  with  his  spiritual  personality,  the 
basis  of  the  new  world,  yea,  his  redeemed  Church  itself,  as  puri- 
fied in  his  blood,  arrayed  in  his  righteousness,  a  pleasing  and 
acceptable  offering  in  the  sight  of  G-od. 

Now,  if  we  are  obedient  to  the  Son  of  his  love,  we  know  that 
there  is  a  city  of  refuge  for  us  in  every  supposable  case.  Into 
whatever  distress  we  may  fall,  we  need  not  be  anxious  as  to  its 
termination.  We  read  in  Heb.  x.  31,  "It  is  a  fearful  thing  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God."  We  say,  no  longer 
fearful,  but  wholly  blissful  to  those  who,  after  the  example  of 
their  dying  Lord,  can  believingly  resign  their  spirits  into  his 
hands.  If  the  world  persecutes,  or  Satan  tempts  us,  if  death 
alarms  us,  or  any  thing  else  excites  apprehension,  we  courageously 
exclaim,  while  relying  on  the  merits  of  Immanuel,  "Because 
I  have  made  the  Lord  my  refuge,  even  the  Most  High  my  habita- 
tion, there  shall  no  evil  befall  me."  And  we  are  sure  that  this  high 
and  lofty  asylum  is  every  moment  open  to  receive  and  shelter  us. 

0  the  incomparable  privileges  which  are  granted  us  in  Christ ! 
Let  us  make  good  use  of  them,  and  cover  the  feet  of  Him,  who 
acquired  them  for  us,  with  reverential  kisses.  Let  us  peacefully 
go  on  our  way,  in  the  rainbow  light  which  beams  upon  us  from 
Calvary,  and  tune  the  strings  of  our  hearts  to  gratitude  and 
devoted  love. 


LI. 

THE    SIGHTS    THAT    FOLLOWED. 

Scarcely  has  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory  bowed  his  head  and 
expired  on  Calvary,  than  the  awful  scene  is  changed.  Heaven 
no  longer  withholds  its  recognition  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows.     The 


THE   SIGNS   THAT   FOLLOWED.  445 


cry  of  the  dying  Mediator,  "It  is  finished  1"  receives  the  most 
brilliant  confirmation;  and  in  lieu  of  the  hostile  tumult,  which 
had  hitherto  raged  around  him,  a  sublime  celebration  of  his 
incomparable  triumph  ensues.  The  manner  in  which  this  cele- 
bration is  commenced  in  heaven  and  solemnized  on  earth,  will 
form  the  subject  of  our  present  meditation. 

Follow  me  first  into  the  temple  at  Jerusalem.  It  is  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  hour,  therefore,  when  the  Israelites 
assembled  in  its  sacred  courts  for  the  evening  sacrifice.  The 
priests  begin  their  customary  duties,  when  at  the  very  moment 
in  which  Christ  on  Calvary  exclaims,  "Father  into  thy  hands 
I  commit  my  spirit!"  who  can  describe  the  astonishment  of  the 
sons  of  Aaron !  The  thickly-woven  heavy  vail,  without  being 
touched  by  any  human  hand,  is  rent  in  twain,  in  the  midst, 
from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  and  the  mercy-seat  with  the  ark  of 
the  covenant  and  the  golden  cherubim,  that  sacred  depositary 
which  the  high  priest  alone  was  permitted  to  approach,  not 
without  blood,  and  only  once  a  year,  stands  suddenly  naked 
and  unvailed  to  the  view  of  every  one. 

It  was  the  Almighty,  at  whose  nod  this  event  occurred.  And 
what  did  it  imply?  First,  a  renewed  intimation  that  the 
Levitical  service,  though  divinely  ordered,  and  prophetically 
significant,  contained  only  types  of  a  coming  salvation,  which, 
now  that  the  latter  was  accomplished,  were  rendered  void,  even 
as  the  blossom  is  expelled  by  the  fruit. 

Secondly,  a  symbolical  and  obvious  representation  of  the 
blissful  effects,  which  should  attend  the  bloody  death  to  which 
the  Lord  of  Glory  had  just  devoted  himself  on  Calvary.  The 
most  holy  place  in  the  temple  was  the  shadow  and  type  of  the 
throne-room  of  heaven,  from  which  we  had  been  ejected  and 
excluded  by  a  divine  decree.  The  vail  which  separated  us  from 
it,  was  our  sinful  flesh.  "  Who  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the 
Lord,  and  who  shall  stand  in  his  holy  place?"  had  been  the 
question  hitherto;  and  the  answer  was,  "He  that  hath  clean 
hands  and  a  pure  heart;  who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto 
vanity."  But  who  could  boast  of  being  thus  blameless  in  the 
sight  of  God  ?  There  was  none  righteous,  no  not  one.  "  Who 
among    us,"    was    the    inquiry,    "can    dwell    with     devouring 


446  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

fire  ?  Who  can  dwell  with  everlasting  burnings  ?"  And  the 
reply  was,  he  that  doeth  righteousness.  But  what  remained 
for  any  one,  except  the  mournful  ejaculation  of  the  prophet, 
u  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone,  for  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips  1" 
Eighteousness  had  departed,  sin  reigned.  Suddenly,  the  sign 
in  the  temple  announces  that  our  position,  as  regards  the  habit- 
ation of  the  Most  High,  had  undergone  a  great  and  thorough 
change.  And  such  it  actually  experienced.  That  wliich 
hindered  our  access  to  the  sanctuary  of  God,  was  done  away. 
That  which  elevated  itself  as  a  wall  of  separation  between  us 
and  him,  fell  down.  No  danger  any  longer  threatened  him 
who  wished  to  enter  into  the  heavenly  abodes,  over  whose  gates 
the  inscription  flames,  "The  Lord  is  far  from  the  wicked." 
There  is  no  longer  any  risk  in  casting  ourselves  into  the  hands 
of  him,  before  whom  even  the  angels  are  not  pure.  Embrace 
the  cross,  and  then  courageously  say  to  Moses,  "Tear  up  thy 
roll  of  curses  against  me,  I  no  longer  owe  thee  any  thing!" 
Believe,  and  then  meet  the  infernal  accuser  with  the  exclamation, 
"The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  Satan,  yea,  the  Lord  that  hath  chosen 
Jerusalem,  rebuke  thee!"  Put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
then  thou  mayest  boldly  and  with  childlike  confidence,  enter 
the  Father's  holy  habitation,  which  henceforward  stands  open 
to  thee  day  and  night.  Wash  thy  robes  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb,  and  then  cast  thyself,  with  childlike  confidence,  on  the 
Father's  heart,  and  pour  every  thing  that  harasses  and  oppresses 
thee  into  his  bosom.  0  lay  hold  of  the  blissful  idea,  winch,  in 
God's  intention,  and  by  his  immediate  arrangement,  the  rent  in 
the  vail  of  the  temple  portrays  to  thee !  Thy  Saviour,  by  his 
death,  threw  open  every  door  and  gate  in  heaven. 

But  wouldst  thou  still  inquire,  whether  we  are  really  justified 
in  giving  that  rent  in  the  vail  of  the  sanctuary  such  an  encourag- 
ing meaning;  know  that  we  are  fully  authorized  to  do  so. 
Read  what  the  apostle  says  in  Heb.  x.  19-23,  "  Having,  there- 
fore, brethren,  boldness  to  enter  into  the  holiest  by  the  blood  of 
Jesus,  by  a  new  and  living  way,  which  he  hath  consecrated  for 
us  through  the  vail,  that  is  to  say,  his  flesh;  and  having  an 
High  Priest  over  the  house  of  God ;  let  us  draw  near  with  a 
true  heart,  in  full  assurance  of  faith,  having  our  hearts  sprinkled 


THE   SIGNS   THAT   FOLLOWED.  447 

from  an  evil  conscience,  and  our  bodies  washed  with  pure  water." 
Thou  secst,  therefore,  that  access  to  the  holy  place  is  opened  to 
us,  and  that  the  way  to  our  Father's  house  is  prepared  for  us. 
"By  whom?"  By  Jesus  Christ.  "In  what  manner?"  By 
means '  of  a  rent  in  the  vail.  This  vail  was  the  flesh  of  the 
great  High  Priest.  The  vail  was  rent  when  he  offered  up  his 
human  nature  on  the  cross  for  us,  after  taking,  by  imputation, 
our  sins  upon  himself.  By  this  act  of  mediation,  he  answered 
and  fulfilled  every  thing  requisite  for  our  justification  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and,  therefore,  also  for  our  admission  before  the  throne 
of  God.  Hence,  at  the  moment  when  he  expired,  that  took 
place  substantially,  which  the  same  moment  occurred  typically  in 
the  temple. 

We  leave  the  edifice  at  Jerusalem,  which  has  now  lost  its 
importance,  and  return  to  Calvary,  where  a  second  miracle 
meets  us.  "  The  earth  quakes,  the  rocks  rend."  What  does  this 
imply?  Something  great  and  glorious.  The  death  of  the 
Mediator  has  decided  the  future  of  the  old  world.  It  is, 
with  all  its  concerns,  devoted  to  destruction,  and  awaits*  a 
great  and  comprehensive  change.  Hear  what  is  said  in  Heb. 
xii.  21,  26 — "Whose  voice  then  shook  the  earth;  but  now  he 
hath  promised,  saying,  Yet  once  more  I  shake  not  the  earth 
only,  but  also  heaven.  And  this  word,  yet  once  more  signifieth 
the  removing  of  those  things  that  are  shaken,  that  those  things 
which  can  not  be  shaken  may  remain."  The  present  creation 
is  not  what  it  was  originally.  Sin  entered  into  it  and  overspread 
it  with  the  funeral  pall  of  mortality,  and  the  mourning  dress  of 
endless  destruction.  Innumerable  relations  in  nature  as  well  as 
in  human  society,  contradict  the  divine  plan  of  the  Creator,  and 
have  disturbed  the  harmony  which  God  introduced  into  the 
world.  These  discords  were  the  consequences  of  the  fall.  But 
after  sin  had  been  again  put  away  through  the  satisfaction  made 
by  the  Redeemer,  its  consequences  must  also  naturally  find  their 
grave.  The  blood  of  the  Lamb  demands  the  restoration  of  the 
original  state  of  created  things.  And  believe  me,  the  quaking  of 
the  earth  to  its  very  foundations,  the  tottering  of  the  hills  and 
mountains,  the  rending  of  the  rocks,  which  attended  the  Lord's 
death,  all  these  are  nothing  else  but  an  amen  of  Almighty  God 


448  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

to  the  demand  of  the  bkod  of  his  Son,  clothed  in  the  symbolical 
phenomena  of  nature.  "  The  fashion  of  this  world  passeth 
away,"  says  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  vii.  31,  and  the  pleasing  vision 
of  John,  recorded  in  Rev.  xxi.  1-3 — "  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and 
a  new  earth ;  for  the  first  heaven  and  the  first  earth  were  passed 
away,  and  there  was  no  more  sea.  And  I,  John,  saw  the  holy 
city,  new  Jerusalem,  coming  down  from  God  out  of  heaven, 
prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  husband.  And  I  heard  a 
great  voice  out  of  heaven,  saying,  Behold  the  tabernacle  of  God 
is  with  men,  and  he  will  dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his 
people,  and  God  himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their  God," 
must  be  fulfilled. 

The  third  wonder  ought  to  affect  our  hearts  in  the  most 
powerful  manner.  Not  only  do  rocks  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Calvary  rend,  but  ancient  sepulchers  of  saints,  long  fallen  asleep, 
are  opened,  and  the  corpses  they  conceal,  invigorated  by  new 
life,  begin  to  stir  and  move,  in  order,  after  the  resurrection  of  the 
Illustrious  Sleeper,  likewise  to  go  forth  from  their  chambers, 
and  to  appear  unto  many  in  the  holy  city. 

What  an  event !  It  is  certainly  somewhat  vailed  in  mysteri- 
ous obscurity,  and  gives  rise  to  a  variety  of  questions.  Was 
the  awakening  of  these  dead  bodies  complete  at  once,  or  was  it 
accomplished  by  degrees?  And  if  the  former  were  the  case, 
where  did  the  reanimated  forms  remain  till  the  resurrection  of 
Christ?  Did  they  continue  in  their  sepulchers  during  that 
period?  This  is  scarcely  credible.  And  when  they  afterward 
arose,  in  what  body  did  they  appear?  In  that  spiritual  one 
spoken  of  in  1  Cor.  xv.  ?  If  in  the  latter,  how  can  Christ  be 
called  "the  first-fruits  of  them  that  slept?"  You  see,  my 
readers,  that  the  question  is  surrounded  with  difficulties.  But 
it  seems  to  me  that  the  circumstance  last  mentioned  of  Christ 
being  called  the  first-fruits  of  the  resurrection,  compels  us  to 
believe  that  at  his  death,  the  graves  only  opened  as  a  preceding 
intimation  of  what  would  afterward  occur;  and  as  the  first 
dawn  of  approaching  life,  prophetically  flashing  over  the  slum- 
bering remains;  while  the  reunion  of  the  departed  spirits  with 
their  bodies  only  took  place  three  days  after,  on  the  great  Easter 
morning.      But  the  fact  itself  is  beyond  a   doubt,   and  would 


THE   SIGNS   THAT   FOLLOWED.  449 

stand  fast,  even  without  being  confirmed  by  many  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Jerusalem,  to  whom  the  evangelists  appeal  for  its 
historical  truth. 

But  that  which  God  intended  by  this  miracle  is  sufficiently 
evident.  The  powerful  effects  of  Christ's  vicarious  death  reach 
down  even  to  the  domains  of  the  dead.  By  the  offering  up  of 
his  own  life,  he  became  the  Prince  of  Life.  Even  in  the  ap- 
palling regions  of  corruption,  he  overthrew  the  throne  of  him, 
who,  according  to  the  Scriptures,  "had  the  power  of  death," 
and  acquired  the  authority,  not  only  to  conduct  the  souls  he  had 
redeemed  to  the  mansions  of  eternal  peace,  but  also  to  wrest 
their  bodies  from  the  bonds  of  the  curse,  and  in  due  time  to 
present  his  people  to  his  Father,  entirely  renewed  to  their 
original  paradisaic  form,  in  bodily  as  well  as  spiritual  glorifica- 
tion. This  truth  the  Almighty  intended  primarily  to  confirm  by 
the  miracle  of  the  previous  opening  of  the  graves,  which  was 
connected  with  the  death  of  Christ,  and  then  by  the  actual 
resurrection  of  the  bodies  of  the  saints  on  the  third  day. 

Who  were  these  first  trophies  of  the  glorious  conqueror  of  the 
king  of  terrors  ?  Was  Abraham  among  them,  to  whom  it  was 
promised  that  he  should  see,  in  a  very  peculiar  manner,  the  day 
of  the  Lord  ?  Was  Moses,  of  whom  the  Apostle  Jude  relates, 
that  Satan  strove  with  the  heavenly  powers  about  his  body? 
The  narrative  leaves  us  without  a  reply,  and  is  also  silent  as  to 
the  appearance  presented  by  the  risen  saints,  who  were  made 
visible  to  many  in  the  holy  city ;  and  when,  where,  and  in  what 
manner  they  were  afterward  taken  up  to  heaven.  The  mission 
of  those  who  were  thus  called  from  the  dust  of  the  grave,  was 
limited  to  one  thing,  namely,  to  represent  £he  death  of  Jesus  as 
an  event  which  operated  with  creative  power,  both  in  the  past, 
the  present,  and  the  future,  and  not  less  in  the  depth  than  in  the 
height,  and  to  give  actual  proof  of  the  exceedingly  abundant 
and  well-grounded  cause  we  have  to  rejoice  beneath  the  cross  of 
Christ,  and  to  say  with  the  apostle,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy 
sting?  0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?  The  sting  of  death  is 
sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law ;  but  thanks  be  to  God 
which  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
1  Cor.  xv.  5!^57. 


450  THE   MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

Thus  the  atoning  death  of  Christ  was  solemnized  in  a  majestic 
manner  by  divine  signs  and  wonders,  which  commenced  imme- 
diately beneath  the  cross.  We  are  not  indeed  aware  of  any 
festive  pomp,  nor  does  the  music  of  harps  and  cymbals  meet  our 
ear.  But  in  the  deepest  center  of  the  intellectual  world,  the 
bells  ring,  the  garlands  wave,  and  every  feeling,  which  rises  in 
the  hearts  of  those  who  celebrate  it  at  the  cross,  is  like  instru- 
mental and  vocal  music.  Who  are  these  silent  assistants  at  the 
solemnity?  He  who  first  attracts  our  attention  is  the  Roman 
centurion,  the  commander  of  the  band  of  soldiers  who  watch  the 
cross.  Mute,  and  apparently  lost  in  thought,  he  stands  and 
looks  up  to  the  cross  of  the ,  Divine  Sufferer.  He  has  witnessed 
the  whole  course  of  the  crucifixion.  He  beheld  the  admirable 
behavior  of  the  Mysterious  Man.  He  listened  to  the  words 
which  proceeded  from  his  bleeding  lips,  and  at  the  moment  when 
the  Just  One  expired,  he  felt  the  earth  tremble  beneath  his  feet ; 
and  he  saw  also  with  his  own  eyes,  how  the  hills  around  tottered, 
and  the  rocks  were  rent  asunder.  The  emotions,  which  had  till 
then  affected  his  soul*  compressed  themselves  into  one  powerful 
and  appalling  impression,  and  he  gives  vent  to  his  feelings  in  the 
loud  and  unambiguous  exclamation,  in  which  he  praised  the  true 
God,  the  God  of  Israel,  saying,  "  Certainly  this  was  a  righteous 
man,  this  was  the  Son  of  God !" 

We  must  not  be  too  anxious  to  know  what  the  centurion 
meant  by  the  latter  expression.  He  was  certainly  no  dogma- 
tician,  nor  a  Jew  instructed  in  the  catechism,  but  only  a  poor, 
blind  heathen.  But  according  to  all  that  he  had  seen  of  the  Man 
of  Nazareth,  he  doubted  not  that  he  must  be  more  than  a  man, 
and  according  to  th*e  presentiment  winch  had  taken  possession 
of  his  soul,  he  regarded  him  as,  in  fact,  no  other  than  the  Son  of 
God,  foretold  in  the  Jewish  Scriptures.  Nor  did  it  require  a 
very  finely  polished  mental  mirror  to  express  the  reflection  of 
the  divine  dignity  of  Jesus.  Even  a  rude,  but  honest  heathen 
soldier's  heart  was  a  sufficient  mirror  for  it. 

But  see !  Not  only  the  centurion,  but  also  several  of  his 
troop  are  overpowered  by  feelings  similar  to  his  own;  and 
astonished  and  thrilled  with  a  sacred  reverence,  join  in  his 
confession,  or  m  urmur  something  of  the  kind.     What  a  pleasing 


THE   SIGNS   THAT   FOLLOWED.  451 

and  significant  occurrence  !  A  number  of  blind  heathen,  among 
them  probably  even  those  who  had  been  the  instruments  of 
Jesus's  crucifixion,  at  a  moment,  when,  with  his  cause,  he  seemed 
irretrievably  lost,  give  him,  in  spite  of  a  world  of  opponents,  the 
glory  of  the  candid  confession,  that  he  is  the  Son  of  the  living 
God,  and  surprise  us,  like  a  radiant  constellation  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  with  a  truly  heart-cheering  anticipation  of  that 
which  should  in  future  come  to  pass. 

0  my  dear  readers,  you  have  seen  and  heard  not  merely  that 
which  those  heathens  saw  and  heard,  but  something  infinitely 
greater  and  more  important.  You  are  witnesses  of  the  fact,  that 
Christ's  death  on  the  cross  not  only  rent  the  rocks  and  made  the 
hills  to  tremble,  but  lifted  the  whole  order  of  the  old  world 
from  its  joints  and  hinges,  and  pushed  it  into  an  entirely  new 
path.  You  saw  from  that  death,  a  resurrection-beam  dart, 
not  merely  over  a  few  bodies  of  sleeping  saints,  but  the  fiery 
stream  of  a  new  and  divine  life  pour  itself  over  the  whole  grave- 
yard of  the  earth.  You  are  not  only  aware  of  the  rending  of 
the  vail  in  the  temple,  at  the  moment  when  the  great  Sufferer 
expired,  but  also  of  the  rending  of  a  prophetic  covering  which 
had  existed  for  four  thousand  years,  in  order  that  what  was 
concealed  under  it,  as  idea  and  image,  might  be  realized  in  the 
world,  even  in  its  minutest  features.  You  not  only  heard  the 
dying  Saviour  majestically  gladden  a  single  malefactor  with  the 
promise,  "  This  day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise ;"  but 
are  aware,  that  to  this  hour,  no  one  under  heaven  glows,  either 
with  pure  love  to  God,  or  attains  to  thorough  peace  amid  the 
darkness  and  storms  of  this  life,  till  he  has  lifted  up  the  eye  of 
faith  to  that  thorn-crowned  head,  which  benignantly  beholds 
the  human  race  for  the  last  eighteen  centuries,  and  continues 
unobscured,  in  spite  of  hell,  for  the  consolation  of  every  peni- 
tent sinner ;  and  that  the  field,  be  it  family,  or  state,  or  church, 
over  which  the  cross  does  not  cast  its  wonder-working  shadow, 
produces  only  the  hemlock  and  the  bramble  of  perdition,  but 
never  "  yields  the  scent  of  a  field  which  the  Lord  hath  blessed." 
All  these  things  have  been  brought  before  you,  and  you  are 
daily  conversant  with  them ;  and  can  you  delay  to  detach 
yourselves,  resolutely,  from  an  unbelieving  world,  and  to  make 


452  '  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

the  confession  of  those  heathen  soldiers  your  own ;  and  while 
thus  paying  homage  to  the  Son  of  God,  mingle  in  their  peaceful 
solemnization  of  his  death  ? 

The  Roman  mercenaries  are  not  however  the  only  individuals 
on  Calvary  who  pay  their  tribute  of  reverence  to  the  deceased 
Saviour.  It  is  done  more  profoundly  and  fervently  by  the 
group  of  weeping  women  who  followed  the  Master  from  Galilee 
and  ministered  unto  him.  Even  in  death  they  can  not  leave 
him.  They  still  cling  to  him  with  their  love  and  hope,  like  ivy 
to  the  fallen  tree.  Duly  mark  the  sacred  fire  which  burns  in 
the  center  of  their  hearts.  It  is  the  fire  of  the  purest  enthu- 
siasm for  true  moral  greatness.  This  enthusiasm  can  not  weep 
hopelessly,  much  less  rest  on  a  mere  deception.  The  kingdom 
of  that  which  is  venerable,  noble,  and  beautiful,  must  have  reality, 
duration,  and  existence.  Christ  is  the  king  of  this  kingdom, 
and  must  forever  continue  to  be  so.  Ye  beloved  souls  do  not 
despair  of  this  kingdom,  even  though  the  whole  world  should 
declare  it  to  be  an  idle  dream.  It  alone  is  reality,  and  will  have 
the  victory  under  all  circumstances.  Let  us  therefore  all  join 
ourselves  to  it.  Let  us  all  address  the  crucified  Redeemer,  and 
say,  "  We  side  with  thee,  thou  beauteous  Morning  Star !"  Let 
us  give  our  word  and  our  hands,  that  we  will  walk  in  his  paths, 
through  whatever  straits  aud  difficulties  they  may  lead  us. 
Extend  toward  us  thy  hand,  therefore,  thou  who  art  estranged 
from  all  that  is  low  and  vain,  and  teach  us  to  elevate  our  nature 
by  following  in  thy  steps  ! 

Let  these  be  the  ejaculations  which  rise  from  our  breasts 
beneath  the  cross.  But  know  that  the  celebration  of  his  death 
does  not  terminate  in  such  moral  enthusiasm  for  the  Lord  and 
his  kingdom.  The  women  had  found  in  Jesus  more  than  a 
model  of  humanity  and  a  guiding  star  in  the  path  of  virtue. 
They  felt  their  need,  above  all  things,  of  a  Surety,  who  should 
mediate  their  reconciliation  with  God,  in  order  that  in  the 
strength  of  this  consciousness,  and  with  the  assistance  of  a 
reconciled  God,  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  might  be  made. 
And  they  believed  that  they  had  really  found  the  object  of  their 
ardent  desires  in  their  great  Master.  But  did  they  give  up  their 
belief  at  his  death?     It  was  doubtless   deeply  shaken  by  the 


THE   SIGNS   THAT   FOLLOWED.  453 

sanguinary  exit  of  their  Divine  Friend  out  of  this  life ;  but  the 
signs  they  had  just  witnessed,  swelled,  like  a  favorable  gale,  the 
sails  of  their  hope  anew,  and  seemed  to  them  nothing  less  than 
a  voice  of  their  heavenly  Father,  saying  to  them,  "  Endure  and 
wait,  for  he  is  nevertheless  the  man  whom  you  held  him  to  be." 
And  however  weak  might  be  the  glimmering  of  their  confidence, 
yet  they  celebrated  their  reconciliation  through  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb,  although  more  in  hope  than  in  a  clear  consciousness  of 
its  being  the  case.  0  let  us  enter  into  fellowship  with  them! 
The  only  real,  true,  and  full  celebration  of  the  death  of  Christ 
is  that  which  is  based  upon  the  song  of  the  blest  above.  "  The 
Lamb  that  was  slain,  is  worthy  to  receive  praise,  and  honor, 
and  glory !" 

Let  such  be  also  our  celebration  of  it.  We  read  in  the  Gospel 
that  many,  who  had  likewise  been  witnesses  of  the  divine 
wonders  at  the  cross,  returned  to  Jerusalem,  in  great  amaze- 
ment, beating  their  breasts.  The  state  of  these  people  points 
out  to  you  the  preparation  for  a  real  "  Good  Friday."  0  that 
there  may  not  be  one  of  my  readers,  who  through  divine  mercy, 
is  not  placed  in  this  preparatory  state !  Be  aware  what  enor- 
mous guilt,  apart  from  your  other  sins  you  incur,  by  so  long 
refusing  due  homage  and  submission  to  a  Lord  and  King  so 
powerfully  accredited  as  Jesus  upon  the  cross.  0  that  you 
would  take  it  deeply  to  heart,  and  now  begin  to  humble  your- 
selves before  God !  You  would  then  soon  be  able,  with  beaming 
countenance  to  sing, 

"  0  for  this  love,  let  rocks  and  hills 
Their  lasting  silence  break ; 
And  all  harmonious  human  tongues 
The  Saviour's  praises  speak ! 

"  Tes,  we  will  praise  thee,  dearest  Lore 
Our  souls  are  all  on  flame, 
Hosannah  round  the  spacious  earth, 
To  thine  adored  namel" 


ML 

THE    WOUND    OF    THE    LANCE. 

On  our  return  to  the  scene  of  suffering  on  Calvary,  we  find  a 
great  change  has  taken  place.  Profound  silence  reigns  on  the 
three  crosses.  Death,  the  speechless  monster,  has  spread  his 
sable  wings  over  the  sufferers.  The  gazing  crowd  which  sur- 
rounded the  place  of  execution,  has  dispersed — in  part,  deeply 
affected  and  conscience-smitten.  Even  the  little  company  of 
faithful  women,  almost  ready  to  succumb  with  grief  and  sorrow, 
appear  to  have  returned  to  the  city.  We  therefore  find  only  the 
Roman  guard,  and  besides  them  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved, 
who,  after  he  had  safely  lodged  Mary  in  his  peaceful  cottage, 
could  not  resist  the  urgent  impulse  to  seek  again  the  place  where 
he,  that  was  all  to  him,  hung  on  the  cross.  Who  could  we  have 
wished  as  a  witness  to  the  last  event  on  Calvary  sooner  than 
this  sober-minded  and  sanctified  disciple  ?  He  relates  to  us,  in 
all  simplicity,  what  he  there  beheld ;  but  his  deeply-affected 
heart  lies  wholly  open  before  us,  with  all  its  thoughts  and  feelings, 
in  his  brief  and  unadorned  narrative. 

The  priests  and  scribes,  accustomed  to  strain  at  a  gnat  and 
swallow  a  camel,  think  not  of  the  heinous  blood-guiltiness  they 
had  incurred,  but  only  of  the  prevailing  custom  in  Israel,  to  take 
down  from  the  gibbets,  where  they  had  been  exposed  to  public 
view,  as  a  warning  to  others,  the  bodies  of  malefactors,  and 
inter  them  before  night.  This  custom  was  founded  on  an  express 
divine  command.  We  read  in  Deut.  xxi.  22,  23,  "If  a  man 
have  committed  a  sin  worthy  of  death,  and  he  be  put  to 
death,  and  thou  hang  him  on  a  tree,  his  body  shall  not  remain 
all  night  upon  the  tree,  but  thou  shalt  in  anywise  bury  him  that 
day ;  (for  he  that  is  hanged  is  accursed  of  God)  that  thy  land  be 
not  defiled,  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee  for  an  inherit- 
ance."     This   is  a  strange   and  peculiar  ordinance,   which  we 


.     THE   WOUND    OF   THE  LANCE.  455 

should  scarcely  have  been  able  to  account  for,  had  not  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  himself  presented  us  with  the  key  to  it.  The  fact 
that  God  points  out  those  that  are  hung  as  especially  burdened 
with  his  curse,  compelled  the  more  thoughtful  in  Israel  to  infer 
that  there  was  something  typical  in  it ;  because  a  wicked  man, 
though  not  thus  put  to  death,  could  not  really  be  less  accursed 
than  one  whose  dead  body  was  thus  publicly  exhibited.  Thus  the 
divine  command  to  inter  the  body,  and  the  promise  connected 
with  it,  "  So  shalt  thou  bury  with  it  the  curse  that  rests  upon 
the  land,"  unfolded  the  consoling  prospect  that  a  removal  and 
blotting  out  of  guilt  was  actually  possible.  But  since  it  followed, 
of  course,  that  it  could  not  be  affected  by  the  mere  interment  of 
executed  malefactors,  the  idea  must  have  occurred  to  them  that 
in  the  divine  counsels,  the  removal  of  the  curse  would,  at  a  future 
period,  be  actually  accomplished  by  the  death  and  burial  of  some 
prominent  mysterious  personage.  Now,  when  believing  Israel- 
ites hit  upon  such  thoughts,  their  ideas  were  in  accordance  with 
God's  intention,  who,  in  the  ordinance  respecting  malefactors 
that  had  been  put  to  death,  had  no  other  object  in  view  than  a 
prophetic  symbolizing  of  the  future  redemption  by  Christ.  The 
latter  is  clearly  evident  from  Gal.  iii.  13,  14,  where  the  apostle 
says,  u  Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being 
made  a  curse  for  us  (for  it  is  written,  Cursed  is  every  one  that 
hangeth  on  a  tree)  that" — instead  of  the  curse — "  the  blessing 
of  Abraham  might  come  on  the  Gentiles  through  Jesus  Christ." 
Here  Christ  is  undeniably  set  forth  as  the  antitype  of  those  who 
were  hanged  in  Israel.  On  the  cross  he  bore  the  curse  for  us, 
and  in  doing  this,  died  the  public  death  of  a  criminal.  But  after 
he  had  commended  his  Spirit,  as  a  voluntary  offering  into  the 
hands  of  his  Father,  the  curse  that  lay  upon  the  earth  and  its 
inhabitants,  was  actually  interred  with  his  body,  since  all  that 
believe  on  him  are  freed  from  the  curse,  and  become  heirs  of  an 
incorruptible  and  heavenly  blessing. 

Hence,  how  deeply  significant  does  the  scene  on  Calvary  ap- 
pear, which  we  are  now  contemplating !  The  persons  that  are 
acting  there  do  not  indeed  know  what  they  are  doing.  But  this 
does  not  prevent  them  from  being  led,  by  an  invisible  clew,  in 
the  hand  of  divine  Providence.     Without  reflecting  further,  they 


456  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

call  to  mind  the  letter  of  the  Mosaic  law,  and  believe  they  oug\  t 
to  hasten  with  the  taking  down  the  bodies  from  the  cross,  in 
order  to  their  interment,  both  because  the  day  began  to  decline, 
and  because  it  is  the  preparation  for  the  great  Sabbath — that  of 
the  feast  of  the  passover,  and  hence  peculiarly  holy.  They, 
therefore,  proceed  in  a  body  to  Pilate,  and  request  him  to  cause 
the  legs  of  the  three  criminals  to  be  broken,  as  was  customary, 
then  to  be  taken  down,  and  afterward  interred. 

The  governor  does  not  hesitate  to  grant  their  request,  and 
sends,  at  the  same  time,  another  guard  to  the  place  of  execution 
to  break  the  legs  of  the  malefactors,  and  to  convince  themselves 
of  their  being  really  dead.  It  was  considered  an  act  of  mercy 
to  those  that  were  crucified,  to  hasten  their  death  by  breaking 
their  limbs  with  an  iron  bar,  and  then  giving  them  a  final  coup 
de  grace  on  the  breast.  The  beginning  was  made  with  the  two 
malefactors,  but  when  the  turn  came  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  every 
sign  of  his  being  already  dead  was  so  apparent,  that  the  break- 
ing of  his  legs  was  thought  needless,  especially  as  one  of  the 
spearmen  pierced  his  side  with  his  lance,  which  alone  would 
have  sufficed  to  have  caused  his  death,  had  the  Divine  Sufferer 
been  still  alive. 

In  the  abstract,  this  occurrence  appears  of  extremely  trifling 
importance ;  but  the  Evangelist  John,  who  so  expressly  states  it, 
regarded  it  with  other  eyes.  In  the  twofold  fact  of  the  Saviour's 
limbs  not  being  broken,  and  of  his  side  being  pierced  by  the 
lance,  he  recognizes  a  divine  interposition,  by  which  two  ancient 
prophecies  were  fulfilled.  "  These  things  were  done,"  says  he, 
"  that  the  Scriptures  should  be  fulfilled.  A  bone  of  him  shall 
not  be  broken."  This  was  said  in-  reference  to  the  paschal 
lamb  (Exod.  xii.  46),  to  which  the  evangelist  here  expressly 
attributes  the  significance  of  the  type  of  the  Lamb  of  God, 
offered  up  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  As  a  shadow  of  him  tha 
was  to  come,  the  paschal  lamb  was  to  be  a  male,  and  in  ordei 
especially  to  intimate  the  holiness  of  him  who  was  prefigured,  it 
was  required  to  be  without  blemish.  But  that  not  a  bone  of 
him  was  to  be  broken,  was  intended  to  point  .out,  that  Christ 
would  offer  himself  as  an  atonement  to  God,  whole  and  un- 
divided; and  those  who  desired  to  become  partakers  of  his  sal- 


THE   WOUND    OF   THE   LANCE.  457 

vation,  must  appropriate  him  to  themselves  entirely.  The  Lord 
also,  in  that  appointment,  aimed  at  the  establishment  of  an  addi- 
tional sign,  which,  when  the  Messiah  should  appear,  would  con- 
tribute clearly  to  make  him  known  to  every  one.  And  John 
seems  to  say  to  us  in  his  narrative,  "Behold  here  the  predicted 
sign  I"  The  fact,  that  the  sacred  vessel  of  his  body  remained 
unmutilated,  impresses  the.  confirming  seal  upon  the  illustrious 
deceased,  as  the  true  atoning  Paschal  Lamb.  He  is  the  right- 
eous One,  of  whom  it  is  said  in  Psalm  xxxiv.  20,  "  He  keepeth 
all  his  bones ;  not  one  of  them  is  broken." 

In  the  wound  with  the  spear,  the  evangelist  sees  the  fulfillment 
of  another  passage  of  Scripture.  "  Again,''  continues  he,  "  an- 
other Scripture  saith,  They  shall  look  on  him  whom  they 
pierced."  The  word  of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet  Zechariah, 
chap.  xii.  10,  presents  itself  to  his  mind,  where  it  is  said,  "I 
will  pour  upon  the  house  of  David  and  upon  the  inhabitants  of 
Jerusalem,  the  spirit  of  grace  and  of  supplications,  and  they  shall 
look  upon  me  whom  they  have  pierced."  This  passage  was  an 
inexplicable  riddle  to  the  Jews,  on  which  account,  in  the  Greek 
version  of  the  Septuagint,  the  original  word,  without  any  ground 
for  so  doing,  instead  of  "pierced,"  has  been  rendered  "degrade" 
or  "  despised."  But  the  only  true  meaning  of  these  prophetic 
words  has,  since  then,  been  made  evident  to  thousands,  and 
will  become  so  to  thousands  more — yea,  even  to  the  whole 
world,  either  in  the  day  of  grace  or  of  judgment.  Either 
they  who  have  hitherto  denied  Christ  the  homage  due  to  him, 
shall  be  laid  hold  of  and  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
with  weeping  eyes  and  supplicating  hearts,  shall  look  up  to  him, 
in  the  painful  consciousness  of  having  aided,  by  their  sins,  in 
crucifying  the  Lord  of  Glory ;  or  they  shall  experience  what  the 
apostle  announces  beforehand,  in  the  book  of  Revelation,  "Be- 
hold he  cometh  with  clouds,  and  every  eye  shall  see  him,  and 
they  also  which  pierced  him,  and  all  kindreds  of  the  earth  shall 
wail  because  of  him.     Even  so.     Amen." 

Thus  you  see  how  the  profound  evangelist  discovers,  in  all 
that  occurs  on  Calvary,  even  in  the  most  unimportant  circum- 
stance, a  striking  divine  hieroglyphic,  which  has  solely  refer- 
ence to  the  acknowledgment  and  glorification  of  Christ  as  the 

20 


458  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

true  and  promised  Messiah  and  Redeemer  of  the  world.  But 
who  does  not  perceive,  that  in  all  these  various  events,  the  hand 
of  a  living  God  overrules,  and  causes  them  to  occur  in  such  a 
manner,  that  one  passage  of  prophecy  after  another  is  fulfilled 
by  them  to  the  letter?  How  highly  the  evangelist  estimates 
them  as  a  means  of  strengthening  our  faith,  he  proves,  very  im- 
pressively, by  the  words,  "  And  he  that  saw  it,  bare  record,  and 
his  record  is  true,  and  he  knoweth  that  he  saith  true,  that  ye 
might  believe."  It  is  not,  however,  the  taking  down  from  the 
cross,  the  wound  of  the  spear,  and  the  preservation  of  the  sacred 
body  of  Christ  from  mutilation,  that  John  has  solely  in  view  in 
the  words  above  quoted ;  but  it  is,  more  especially,  the  effusion 
of  the  water  and  the  blood  from  the  Saviour's  wounded  side,  in 
which  he  recognizes  nothing  less  than  a  profound  and  divine 
symbol  of  the  saving  power  of  the  heavenly  Prince  of  Peace. 

The  narrative  states,  that  "  one  of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear 
pierced  his  side,  and  forthwith  there  came  thereout  blood  and 
water."  It  has  been  supposed  that  John  laid  so  much  stress 
upon  this  circumstance,  because  he  believed  it  might  serve  to 
refute  certain  erroneous  spirits  of  his  day,  who  assigned  to 
Christ  an  imaginary  and  not  a  real  body.  It  is  certainly  pos- 
sible that,  in  giving  his  account  of  the  matter,  he  was  partly 
induced  by  such  a  motive.  But  it  is  the  miraculous  nature  of 
the  event  that  chiefly  excited  his  interest  in  it.  In  dead  bodies 
the  blood  always  coagulates,  while  from  the  wound  above  men- 
tioned, on  the  contrary,  it  flowed  clearly  and  abundantly,  un- 
mixed with  the  water  which  burst  forth  from  the  pierced  peri- 
cardium of  his  heart,  and  ran  down  from  the  cross.  It  was  as 
if  the  great  High  Priest  intended  to  say,  even  in  his  death,  "  Be- 
hold, I  shed  my  blood  voluntarily,  and  offer  it  up  in  entire  fullness 
for  your  sins."  But  that  which  most  deeply  affected  the  soul  of  the 
beloved  disciple  was  the  divine  symbol  he  perceived  beneath  the 
wondrous  event.  In  the  water  and  the  blood  he  sees  represented 
the  most  essential  blessings  of  salvation  for  which  the  world  is 
indebted  to  Christ.  We  know  that  in  his  first  epistle  he  points 
out  the  fact  of  his  coming  with  water  and  blood,  as  well  as  with 
the  Holy  Spirit,  as  the  most  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  Re- 
deemer of  the  world ;  and  who  does  not  perceive,  in  these  words, 


THE   WOUM>    OF   THE   LANCE.  459 

that  the  wondrous  event  on  Calvary  must  have  been  present  to 
his  mind  ? 

But  what  do  these  three  elements  imply  ?  And,  first  of  all, 
the  water — does  it  imply  baptism?  Doubtless  it  has  a  remote 
reference  even  to  that  ordinance.  But  water  chiefly  symbolizes 
to  the  evangelist,  in  accordance  with  the  figurative  language 
throughout  the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  moral  purifying  power  of 
the  word  of  Christ — yea,  the  atmosphere  of  his  kingdom. 
Wherever  the  Gospel  penetrates,  it  changes  the  moral  aspect  of 
nations,  apart  from  regeneration  and  conversion,  in  the  more 
limited  and  specific  sense  of  these  words.  Decorum  and  mental 
culture  expel  barbarism.  Discipline  and  order  take  the  place  of 
a  licentious  service  of  sin.  Animal  carnality  finds  at  least  its 
bound,  in  the  rising  apprehension  of  a  superior  ideality  of  human 
life.  The  consciences  of  the  children  of  men  become  more  sensi- 
tive and  refined ;  and  modesty,  as  the  keeper  of  good  manners, 
erects  among  them  its  throne.  Even  as  justice  establishes  its 
claims  in  legislation  and  civil  institutions,  so  does  also  love. 
Men  become  conscious  of  the  obligation  for  mutual  assistance 
and  kind  offices.  Attention  to  the  poor  and  the  sick  erects  its 
hospitals,  and  opens  to  the  destitute  its  places  of  refuge.  There 
is  nothing  which  is  not  cemented,  ennobled,  and  transfigured,  as 
soon  as  affected  by  the  gentle  breath  of  the  Christian  religion. 
Compare  even  the  most  degraded  of  the  nations  of  Christendom 
with  any  of  the  heathen,  and  even  with  the  Mohammedan,  and 
say,  if  in  comparison  with  these,  they  may  not,  in  a  general 
sense  of  the  word,  be  termed  regenerated  ?  It  is  in  these  effects 
that  the  water-power  of  Christ  and  his  Gospel  manifests  itself. 
It  was  these  results,  especially,  which  the  Almighty  had  in  view 
when  he  promised  by  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  chap,  xxxvi.  25,  say- 
ing, "  Then  will  I  sprinkle  clean  water  upon  yon,  and  ye  shall 
be  clean.  From  all  your  filthiness  and  from  all  your  idols  will 
I  cleanse  you."  The  apostle  doubtless  refers  to  the  same  effects 
in  Heb.  x.  22,  when  he  speaks  of  "  having  our  bodies  washed 
with  pure  water."  And,  in  the  same  manner,  John  the  Baptist, 
when  he  said,  "I  baptize  you  with  water,"  while  referring,  at 
the  same  time,  to  another  baptism — that  "  with  the  Spirit  and  with 
fire,"  which  he  alone  could  accomplish  who  should  come  after  him. 


460  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

Suffice  it  to  say  that  by  means  of  his  word,  and  the  planting 
of  his  Church,  s,  moral  purification,  ennobling  and  transform- 
ing the  human  race,  emanates  from  Christ,  and  to  these  re- 
sults, the  water  which  flowed  from  Jesus' s  opened  side,  symboli- 
cally points. 

But  water  alone  would  not  have  saved  us.  We  are  deeply 
involved  in  guilt  in  the  sight  of  God ;  and  though  we  might 
cease,  from  this  time,  to  accumulate  fresh  guilt,  yet  our  former 
offenses  would  not,  on  that  account,  be  undone  and  blotted  out. 
Besides,  notwithstanding  all  the  cleansing  and  ennobling  of  our 
lives  by  the  Word — when  measured  according  to  the  model  of 
the  divine  requirements — we  remain  poor  sinners  as  before,  and 
exposed  to  the  curse.  We  therefore  need,  besides  a  moral  re- 
formation, and  more  urgently  than  that,  a  deliverance  from  the 
sentence  of  condemnation  which  impended  over  us,  and  a  being 
replaced  in  a  state  of  grace.  For  this  necessity — the  most 
urgent  of  all — that  which  is  requisite  is  supplied  by  the  blood 
we  see  streaming,  along  with  the  water,  from  the  wounded 
side  of  Jesus.  It  points  out  the  ransom  paid  for  our  guilt, 
once  for  all  before  God;  as  well  as  the  atoning  sacrifice, 
by  means  of  which  the  reconciliation  of  divine  justice  with 
God's  love  to  sinners  is  brought  about,  and  our  acceptance 
without  any  infringement  of  the  former  rendered  possible. 
The  blood  flowed  separately  from  the  water;  justification  must 
not  be  mingled  with,  much  less  exchanged  for,  personal  amend- 
ment. That  winch  again  recommends  us  to  the  love  of  God  is 
solely  the  merits  of  Christ,  and  by  no  means  the  piece-work  of 
our  own  virtue.  Certainly,  union  by  faith  and  life  with  Christ 
is  requisite  on  our  parts,  but  in  Christ's  righteousness,  and  in 
that  alone,  do  we  receive  the  absolution  from  deserved  punish- 
ment ;  even  as,  for  its  sake  alone,  Ave  are  reinstated  in  the 
priviliges  of  divine  adoption.  Conversion  makes  us  capable  of 
blessedness ;  but  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  alone  renders  us  worthy 
of  it. 

But  we  know  that  water  and  blood  by  no  means  exhaust  the 
exhibition  of  the  saving  efficacy  of  Christ's  merits.  There  are 
three,  says  the  apostle,  that  testify  for  him  and  of  him  on  earth 
— the  water  (the   moral  power  of  the  Word),  the   blood   (the 


THE   INTERMENT.  461 

atoning  and  peace-bringing  effect  of  his  vicarious  sufferings),  and 
the  Holy  Spirit,  who  not  merely  amends,  but  renews ;  not  only 
prunes  away  the  twigs  from  the  tree  of  sin,  but  roots  it  up,  and 
plants  in  its  place  the  scion  of  an  essentially  new  being  and  life. 
He  who  passes  through  the  world  adorned  with  the  threefold 
seals  of  such  powerful  credentials,  can  not  be  otherwise  than  from 
above,  and  must  be  the  Eedeemer  and  Messiah  ordained  of  God. 
John  regards  it  as  scarcely  possible  that  any  one  can  mistake 
this,  and  vehemently  urges  us  to  swear  fealty  to  Mm  along  with 
himself,  while  most  impressively  and  affectingly  exclaiming, 
"He  that  saw  it  bare  record,  and  his  record  is  true;  and  he 
knoweth  that  he  saith  true,  that  ye  might  believe." 

Let  us,  then,  also  believe,  dear  readers,  that  we  may  likewise 
experience  the  Lord  of  Glory  as  Him  who  cometh  with  water, 
blood,  and  the  Holy  Spirit — that  is,  cleansing,  reconciling,  and 
regenerating.  Let  us  give  ourselves  wholly  and  without  reserve 
to  Him,  after  he  has  thus  given  himself  up  to  death  for  us,  and 
say  with  the  poet, 

"  Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 
From  thy  wouuded  side  which  flowed, 
Be  of  sin  the  double  cure, 
Cleanse  us  from  its  guilt  and  power." 


LIII. 
THE    INTERMENT. 

After  all  the  heart-affecting  and  appalling  scenes  we  have  been 
witnessing,  how  beneficial  to  our  spirits  is  the  solemn  stillness 
that  now  reigns  on  Calvary  1  It  is  the  preparation  for  the  Sab- 
bath, and  to  us  it  seems  just  as  if  we  heard  the  gentle  sound  of 
the  Sabbath-bells  reaching  us  from  a  distance.  The  Gospel  nar- 
rative which  details  to  us  the  circumstances  attending  our  Lord's 
being  taken  down  from  the  cross — his  being  laid,  in  the  grave — 
and  the  watch  which  was  set  over  it — produce  in  us  a  tranquil 


462  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

and  peaceful  feeling.  It  is  our  last  meditation  on  the  history  of 
our  Saviour's  passion.  May  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth 
understanding,  be  the  precious  fruit  that  we  shall  derive  from  it ! 

The  crowd'  have  vacated  the  summit  of  Calvary.  The  Roman 
guard,  however,  remains.  Whether  John  was  also  there,  we 
are  not  informed.  Profound  silence  reigns  around.  The  bodies 
of  the  two  malefactors  are  taken  down  from  their  crosses,  and 
their  graves  are  being  dug.  The  crucified  Redeemer,  with  his 
head  crowned  with  thorns,  and  reclining  upon  his  breast,  still 
hangs  solitarily  between  heaven  and  earth.  You  inquire  what 
will  next  occur  to  his  lifeless  corpse  ?  We  need  not  be  anxious, 
my  readers.  His  heavenly  Father  has  already  made  every 
arrangement.  The  grave-diggers  are  ordered,  and  the  vault 
prepared.  Who  is  to  inter  him  ?  According  to  the  law,  it  was 
the  duty  of  the  executioners  to  bury  him  on  the  place  of  execu- 
tion. But  God  ordered  it  otherwise.  After  the  great  High 
Priest's  atoning  sacrifice  had  been  offered  up,  he  was  not  to  be 
subjected  to  any  further  ignominy.  This  would  have  been  con- 
trary to  the  order  of  the  divine  statutes.  If  he  had  brought  his 
cause  to  a  successful  and  triumphant  termination,  honor  and 
glory  alone  were  henceforth  his  due.  Such  was  also  the  judgment 
of  Almighty  God.  A  funeral  was  to  be  given  to  his  Son,  in  the 
circumstances  attending  which,  even  the  blindest  might  perceive 
the  overruling  hand  of  Eternal  Love.  Two  honorable  men 
— honorable  not  only  in  the  eyes  of  men,  but  also  before 
God — are  intrusted  with  the  interment  of  Immanuel's  corpse; 
and  a  company  of  tried  female  disciples,  to  whom  it  will  be  a 
consolation  to  be  permitted  to  bathe  the  sacred  body  with  their 
grateful  tears,  are  to  be  joined  with  them. 

Let  us  not  anticipate  the  narrative.  We  leave  Mount  Cal- 
vary for  a  few  moments,  and  take  our  stand  in  the  city  of 
Jerusalem.  Who  is  it  that  is  walking  so  hastily  up  the  street 
that  leads  to  the  palace  of  the  Roman  governor?  The  man 
seems  to  be  the  bearer  of  some  important  commission.  His 
countenance  expresses  it,  and  his  haste  betrays  it.  Who  is 
he  ?  Jerusalem  knows  him,  and  numbers  him  among  her' 
principal  and  most  estimable  citizens.  It  is  Joseph,  surnamed 
of  Arimathea,  his  birthplace,  which  lay  on  the  mountains  of 


THE   INTERMENT.  463 

Ephraim — a  man  honored  with  the  universal  confidence  of  his 
tribe,  and  at  the  same  time  a  member  of  the  highest  Jewish 
court  of  justice — the  Sanhedrim.  As  such,  he  had  been  per- 
sonally present  at  the  whole  of  the  proceedings  against  Jesus ; 
and  in  the  course  of  them  had  acquired  a  vital  conviction, 
not  only  of  the  perfect  innocence  of  the  accused,  but  also  of 
something  more.  He  "had  not  consented  to  the  counsel  and 
deed"  of  his  associates,  but  yet  he  had  not  had  the  courage 
to  enter  a  strong  and  decided  protest  against  it.  The  sentence 
pronounced  upon  the  Just  One  had  excited  his  abhorrence; 
but  a  lamentable  fear  of  man  had  prevented  him  from  doing 
more  than  withholding  his  consent.  Christ  was  led  away 
to  execution,  and  Joseph,  in  spirit,  with  him,  so  far  as  he 
was  severely  judged  and  condemned  by  his  own  conscience. 
The  bloody  execution  took  place.  We  know  not  whether 
Joseph  beheld  it  from  a  distance,  or  learned  its  details 
from  another.  Be  it  as  it  may,  before  he  was  aware,  and 
while  under  the  influence  of  a  powerful  presentiment  that 
the  affair  would  terminate  differently,  the  startling  announce- 
ment reached  his  ear,  that  the  Man  of  Nazareth  had  just 
given  up  the  ghost  on  the  cross.  What  was  still  wanting  of 
an  appalling  nature  in  this  intelligence,  was  fully  made  up  by 
the  terrific  phenomenon  of  the  earthquake,  which  occurred  at 
the  same  moment.  We  then  see  him  sitting  solitarily  in  his 
chamber  at  Jerusalem,  and  hear  him  say  in  broken  sentences, 
"He  is  therefore  dead!  They  have  slain  him  whom  they 
ought  to  have  bound  to  the  earth  by  a  thousand  ties  of  love. 
Woe  to  the  murderers!  They  have  extinguished,  in  his  own 
blood,  the  fairest  star  that  ever  shone  from  heaven  upon  the 
world.  They  knew  not  what  they  did,  but  I  knew.  Why 
did  I  not  appear  in  his  behalf?  Why  did  I  not  confess  my- 
self to  be  his  disciple  ?  Without  him,  the  world  is  a  waste, 
and  life  worthless  to  me.  But  human  favor  was  my  idol, 
and  of  more  value  to  me  than  the  honor  which  cometh  from 
G-od.  For  the  most  trifling  price  I  have  denied  the  Lord  of 
Glory.  He  is  now  dead,  and  his  ear  will  no  longer  hear  the 
confession  of  my  repentance,  nor  is  his  mouth  able  to  speak  a 
word  of  forgiveness  to  me.     But  is  he  really  dead,   and   will 


464  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

death  be  able  to  retain  him?  The  Man  of  Nazareth  wag 
either  the  promised  Messiah,  or  the  predictions  of  the  proph- 
ets have  failed,  and  will  never  be  fulfilled.  And  yet  I  never 
bowed  the  knee  to  him,  and  suffered  him  to  be  slain  without 
solemnly  protesting  against  it!"  Such  was  the  language  which 
we  may  suppose  Joseph  uttered  to  himself  in  his  solitude,  while, 
.  with  a  grieved  heart,  he  covered  his  face  with  his  mantle.  But 
suddenly  rising  up,  he  exclaims,  "Thou  whom  I  ought  to  have 
honored  in  life,  let  my  homage  in  death  be  acceptable  to  thee  I" 
So  saying,  he  leaves  his  chamber  and  his  dwelling,  and  mingles 
with  the  crowd  which  throngs  the  streets. 

What  is  Joseph's  object?  He  is  proceeding  directly  to  the 
governor  to  ask  his  permission  to  take  down  the  Saviour 
from  the  cross,  and  honorably  inter  him  in  his  own  family 
sepulcher.  He  arrives  at  the  Roman  palace,  and  after  having 
been  announced,  he  appears  in  the  presence  of  Pilate,  and 
says  with  firmness  and  in  plain  terms,  "I  am  come  to  beg 
of  thee  one  thing — that  thou  wouldst  give  me  the  body  of  Jesus 
that  I  may  prepare  an  honorable  grave  for  him  as  he  deserves." 

Pilate  is  not  a  little  astonished  at  such  a  request  from  the  lips 
of  a  Jewish  senator ;  but,  evidently  to  conceal  the  feelings  which 
are  excited  within  him,  he  expresses  his  astonishment,  first  of 
all  that  the  Nazarene  should  be  already  dead.  To  assure  him- 
self of  this,  he  immediately  sends  for  the  commander  of  the 
guard ;  and  on  his  appearing,  inquires  most  carefully  respecting 
the  three  men  that  had  been  crucified.  But  in  spite  of  the  quiet 
official  mien  which  he  seeks  to  put  on,  it  does  not  escape  us,  that 
he  sympathizes  with  the  deeply  affected  senator,  although  in  a 
smaller  degree.  Nor  can  he  call  to  mind  the  image  of  the  mur- 
dered "Nazarene  without  feeling  pervaded  by  emotions  of  decided 
veneration.  Even  in  the  surprise  with  which  he  hears  the  news 
that  Jesus  is  already  dead,  I  think  I  see  reflected  something  of 
the  powerful  presentiments,  which  his  soul  was  unable  to  resist, 
at  the  thought  of  Him  who  was  crucified.  Besides,  his  con- 
science accuses  him  respecting  his  conduct  toward  One  whom  he 
knew  to  be  guiltless ;  and  that  he  should  experience,  now  that 
he  was  dead,  an  honorable  funeral,  such  as  Joseph  intended, 
corresponded  so  entirely  with  his  own  wishes  and  feelings,  that 


THE   INTERMENT.  465 

he  readily  gives  his  permission,  as  if  his  own  heart  were  relieved 
by  so  doing. 

Joseph  heartily  thanks  the  governor,  and  hastens  from  him  as 
joyfully  as  if  he  had  gained  a  great  treasure,  in  order,  first  of 
all,  to  purchase  the  finest  linen  he  can  procure,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  costly  ointment  and  spices.  And  if  the  whole 
world  should  wish  to  know  for  whom  they  were  intended,  he 
would  have  testified  aloud  that  they  were  for  his  Lord  and  King. 
And  though  the  Sanhedrim  should  warn,  or  go  so  far  as  to 
threaten  him  with  a  removal  from  office,  or  even  something 
worse,  let  them  do  so.  Joseph  will  then  still  more  loudly  ex- 
claim, that  it  is  for  his  King,  his  Lord,  and  his  Prince  of  Peace, 
that  he  is  making  these  funeral  preparations.  The  narrative 
states,  that  u  he  went  in  boldly  to  Pilate ;"  but  to  him  it  did 
not  seem  too  bold.  He  would  gladly  have  sacrificed  any  thing 
for  Jesus,  if  by  so  doing  he  could  have  made  amends  for  what 
he  had  neglected  to  do  while  he  was  living. 

We  leave  him,  and  return  to  the  place  of  execution.  0  see, 
who  has  meanwhile  arrived  there !  We  recognize  the  man, 
who  is  standing,  mute  and  motionless,  like  a  statue,  beneath  the 
cross,  and  is  looking  up  with  devout  and  tearful  eyes  to  the  de- 
ceased sufferer.  Joseph  finds  in  him  a  companion  in  spirit ;  for 
he  has  to  repent  of  the  same  thing,  and  burns  with  desire,  like 
him,  to  make  amends  for  his  fault.  And  who  is  this  contem- 
plative stranger  ?  We  are  as  well  acquainted  with  him  as  with 
Joseph.  It  is  Nicodemus,  Joseph's  colleague  in  office,  that 
Pharisee  who  came  to  Jesus,  desirous  of  learning  and  anxious 
for  salvation,  but  by  night ;  because  in  him  also,  the  fear  of  the 
Jews  at  least  equaled  his  love  for  the  truth.  He,  likewise,  has 
thrown  aside  the  disgraceful  fetters  which  bound  him.  Truly 
we  see  marvelous  things  occurring  in  the  vicinity  of  the  cross. 
If  we  were  to  say  to  one  ignorant  of  the  facts,  "Observe 
two  individuals,  belonging  to  the  first  ranks  in  society,  who, 
when  Jesus  still  walked  abroad  in  the  majesty  of  his  super- 
natural acts,  did  not  venture  to  make  known  their  favorable 
impressions  respecting  him,  for  fear  of  being  condemned  by 
public  opinion — now  that  the  termination  of  his  course  seems  to 
have  stamped  him  as  a  pitiable  enthusiast — honor  him  as  their 

20* 


466  THE   MOST   HOLY  PLACE. 

King  before  all  the  people,  and  with  uplifted  hands  swear  fealty 
beneath  the  tattered  banner  of  his  ruined  kingdom" — would  he 
be  able  to  believe  it  ?  Sooner  would  he  credit  any  thing  else ; 
and  yet  such  is  the  case.  Now  that,  with  one  single  exception,  # 
all  his  disciples,  and  even  his  most  confidential  ones  have  for- 
saken him — now  that  Jesus  no  longer  rebukes  the  winds  and  the 
sea,  but  swims  in  his  blood,  being  himself  overcome — -just  now, 
when  nothing  but  defeat  is  apparent  in  him — at  the  moment 
when  his  cause  seems  to  suffer  the  most  decided  shipwreck — 
both  of  them  lay  aside  the  mask,  and  come  forth  from  their  re- 
treats, freely  and  openly,  with  the  frank  confession,  that  they 
join  the  cause  of  the  crucified  Jesus,  and  thereby  tacitly  con- 
demn his  execution  as  a  judicial  murder,  and  accuse,  in  particu- 
lar, the  whole  Sanhedrim  of  the  crying  sin  of  having  imbrued 
their  hands  in  the  innocent  blood  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel 
And  who  is  it  that  has  thus  suddenly  opened  their  eyes  ?  It  is 
the  Spirit  of  the  living  God.  The  germ  of  faith  which,  all  at 
once,  manifests  itself  so  gloriously  and  so  fully  developed,  had 
long  lain  in  their  hearts,  though  bound,  and  as  if  under  the  sod. 
From  out  of  the  thunder-cloud  that  brooded  over  Calvary,  abund- 
ant grace  has  proceeded,  and  hence  it  is  that  we  see  it  rio  freely 
and  powerfully  manifested. 

After  Nicodemus  had  meditated  awhile  with  unspeakable 
emotion  at  the  sight  of  the  cross,  Joseph  also  reaches  the  summit 
of  Calvary ;  and  how  cordially  does  he  greet  his  associate  in 
mind  and  spirit !  Then,  after  conversing  a  short  time  confiden- 
tially together,  and  making  the  soldiers  acquainted  with  the 
permission  they  have  received  from  the  governor,  they  begin 
their  mournful  and  yet  blissful  labors.  Ladders  are  fetched, 
and  planted  against  the  cross. of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  they 
reverentially  ascend  to  the  corpse,  feeling  at  the  same  time,  as 
if  they  were  mounting  the  steps  of  some  sacred  temple.  Lovely 
scene !  a  scene  full  of  profound  meaning,  and,  while  viewing 
it,  we  join  in  the  words  of  the  poet,  and  sing — 

"Sweet  the  moments,  rich  in  blessing, 
Which  before  the  cross  we  spend, 
Life,  and  health,  and  peace  possessing, 
From  the  sinner's  dying  Friend. 


THE   INTERMENT.  467 

"  Here  we  '11  sit  forever  viewing 

Mercy's  streams  in  streams  of  blood ; 
Precious  drops,  our  souls  bedewing, 
Make  and  seal  our  peace  with  God." 

The  two  friends  have  just  reached  their  departed  Master's 
wounded  feet  There  they  devoutly  bow  their  heads,  and  cover 
them  with  kisses  and  tears,  for  he  is  worthy  of  it.  They  then 
ascend  higher  to  his  lacerated  head.  It  is  not  tender  sympathy, 
but  something  more,  with  which  they  behold  his  blood-stained 
countenance.  They  do  not  fail  to  perceive  what  lofty  majesty 
sits  enthroned  on  that  pallid  brow,  and  that  over  the  closed 
eyelids,  something  hovers  like  the  dawn  of  resurrection.  Their 
minds  are  deeply  affected  by  the  anticipation  of  what  may  still 
come  to  pass  respecting  him ;  and  they  then  begin,  tenderly  and 
gently,  to  draw  out  the  nails  from  his  hands  and  feet.  The 
precious  corpse  reclines  upon  their  shoulders,  and  after  they 
have  wrapped  it  in  linen,  they  gently  let  it  down  from  the  cross 
to  the  ground. 

Let  us  imitate  their  example,  dear  readers.  Jesus  teaching 
at  Nazareth,  or  preacliing  on  the  mount  of  the  beatitudes,  or  even 
transfigured  on  Mount  Tabor,  will  not  suffice  us.  Christ  cruci- 
fied must  be  the  object  of  our  affections.  Therefore  ascend  to 
him  on  the  spiritual  ladder  of  sorrow  for  sin,  longing  for  mercy, 
and  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  his  sufferings  and  death.  Detach 
him  from  the  accursed  tree,  and  deposit  him  in  your  hearts,  as 
your  only  consolation  in  life  and  death.  That  it  is  the  real 
saving  love  to  Jesus  which  burns  within  us,  and  not  a  mere 
caricature  of  it,  may  be  best  ascertained  by  its  being  first 
enkindled  by  the  sight  of  him,  bleeding  and  dying  on  the  cross, 
and  then  embracing  him  as  the  ever-living  One.  He,  on  the 
contrary,  who  turns  away  from  the  dead  Christ,  and  imagines 
that  the  living  Christ,  going  about  doing  good,  teaching,  and. 
Betting  an  example,  suffices  him,  miscalculates,  and  on  the  day 
of  his  coming,  notwithstanding  his  greeting  of  "  Rabbi !  Rabbi !" 
will  hear  from  his  lips  the  awful  words,  "  I  know  not  whence 
thou  art,  I  never  knew  thee  !" 

Let  us  return  to  our  two  friends.     We  see  them  descending 
the   hill  with   their  precious  burden.      The   funeral    is  without 


4G8  THE   MOST   HOLY  PLACE. 

pomp,  but  rendered  distinguished  by  the  tenderness  and  cour- 
ageous conduct  of  the  two  who  carry  the  corpse.  No  mournful 
peal,  indeed,  accompanies  the  quiet  procession,  but  in  the  future 
it  is  so  much  the  more  abundantly  celebrated.  From  how 
many  thousand  towers  in  the  present  day,  do  the  solemn  bells 
resound  over  the  cross  and  grave  of  Jesus,  on  the  annual  return 
of  the  day  which  is  sacred  to  the  memory  of  his  death  and 
burial!  JSTo  mournful  dirge  precedes  it,  no  funeral  torches 
flame.  But  what  more  costly  flambeaux  can  there  be  than  those 
of  inextinguishable  love  and  reverence,  the  offspring  of  heaven  ? 
And  only  listen ;  there  is  also  no  want  of  a  burial-service. 
An  inspired  seer  has  chanted  it  nearly  a  thousand  years  before, 
the  prophet  Isaiah  in  chapter  liii.  9,  "His  grave  was  destined 
to  be  with  the  wicked,  but  he  found  his  resting-place  with 
the  rich;  because  he  had  done  no  violence,  neither  was  guile 
found  in  his  mouth." 

We  have  reached  the  place,  and  enter  a  quiet  plot  of  ground 
partly  inclosed  by  rocks.  It  is  Joseph's  garden.  The  sun  is 
just  casting  its  last  rays  upon  it,  and  the  twilight  of  evening  its 
first  cool  shades.  In  this  peaceful  seclusion,  the  Holy  One  is  to 
find  his  last  earthly  resting-place.  He  who  had  not  where  to  lay 
his  head,  possessed  no  grave  of  his  own,  and,  therefore,  required 
that  one  should  be  lent  him  for  his  transient  repose.  But  how 
happy  Joseph  thought  himself  to  have  the  honor  of  being 
permitted  to  prepare  him  a  sepulcher ;  and  how  pleasing  is  the 
prospect  to  him  of  eventually,  when  his  last  hour  shall  arrive, 
entering,  in  death,  into  the  closest  fellowship  with  him,  whom  in 
life  he  had,  alas  !  so  basely  deserted  ! 

V\rhen  the  two  friends  reach  the  rocky  grotto  with  their 
beloved  burden,  they  perceive  that  there  is  no  want  of  a  train 
of  mourners.  The  faithful  women,  Mary  Magdalene,  Mary 
Joses,  and  many  other  courageous  female  friends  had  followed 
them  at  some  distance ;  for  they  also  were  anxious  to  see  the 
place  where  'the  object  of  their  entire  hope  and  love  was  to  be 
deposited.  Joseph  and  Nicodemus  heartily  welcome  them,  and 
gladly  accept  of  their  services  to  aid  them  in  the  interment. 
Th  3  sacred  body  is  then  gently  laid  on  the  ground,  and,  while 
the  women,  almost  more  with  their  tears  than  with  the  water 


THE   INTERMENT.  469 

they  have  brought,  wash  the  bloody  spots  from  his  head  and 
breast,  the  men  fill  the  white  linen,  in  which  the  body  is  to 
be  wrapped,  with  myrrh,  aloes,  and  other  of  the  most  costly 
spices,  of  which  they  had  brought  a  large  quantity  with  them ; 
Nicodemua  even  a  hundred  pounds  weight.  Then,  after  having 
wrapped  the  body  in  the  customary  linen  bandages,  they  once 
more  look  in  silence  at  the  pallid  yet  regal  face  of  the  dead, 
and  spread  the  napkin  over  it,  which  was  probably  done  by  the 
hands  of  Mary  Magdalene. 

The  entire  business  of  interment  is,  however,  not  yet  ended  ; 
but  the  nearness  of  the  Sabbath  requires  them  to  delay  the 
actual  embalming  until  the  close  of  that  festival,  and,  for  the 
time,  leave  the  corpse  simply  with  those  preliminary  labors 
of  love.  If  Mary,  the  sister  of  Lazarus,  was  also  among  the 
burial  train,  she  would  remember  that  no  further  work  of  that 
kind  with  the  Master's  corpse  was  necessary,  since,  according 
to  his  own  express  assurance,  he  had  already  received  from  her 
hands  in  Bethany,  the  anointing  for  the  day  of  his  burial. 

The  friends  now  again  lift  up  the  beloved  corpse,  and  bear  it, 
gently  and  solemnly,  into  the  new,  clean  sepulcher  in  the  rock, 
where  they  softly  lay  it  down  to  rest,  as  though  it  were  only 
asleep,  in  a  large  and  high-arched  niche.  Once  more  they  look 
at  it  deeply  affected,  then  forcibly  tear  themselves  away,  leave 
the  vault,  roll  a  great  stone  before  its  door,  and  because  the 
Sabbath  lights  are  already  seen  glimmering  from  a  distance, 
return  to  their  dwellings  in  profound  sorrow,  but  not  without 
hopeful  anticipations. 

We  leave  them,  and  linger  a  few  moments  longer  at  the 
sepulcher,  from  whence  a  vital  atmosphere  proceeds,  and  the 
peace  of  God  is  breathed  upon  us.  There  he  rests,  the  Lion  of 
the  tribe  of  Judah.  How  grateful  is  the  feeling  to  us,  after  all 
the  ignominy  and  suffering  he  has  endured,  to  see  him,  at 
once  again  honorably  reposing,  and  that  too  upon  a  couch, 
which  love,  fidelity,  and  tenderness  have  prepared  for  him ! 
"Who  docs  not  perceive,  that  even  in  the  circumstances  of  his 
interment,  the  overruling  hand  of  G-od  has  interwoven  for  our 
consolation,  a  gentle  testimony,  that  his  only-begotten  Son  had 
well  accomplish  led  the  great  task  which  he  was  commissioned  to 


470  THE   MOST   HOLY   PLACE. 

perform  ?  How  clearly  the  taking  down  from  the  cross,  and  the 
interment  of  the  Redeemer  before  the  setting  in  of  night  and  the 
Sabbath,  shows  the  fulfillment  of  the  ancient  ordinance  of  Israel 
respecting  those  who  were  hanged  on  a  tree !  And  how  dis- 
tinctly are  we  convinced,  to  a  demonstration,  that  the  curse 
is  now  removed  from  a  sinful  world,  and  that  the  eye  of 
God  again  looks  graciously  and  well-pleased,  down  upon  the 
earth ! 

There  he  slumbers.  "Well  for  us,  dear  readers,  that  he  was 
willing  to  pass  through  even  this  dark  passage  on  our  behalf  1 
Nothing  hindered  him  from  taking  up  his  life  again  on  the  cross, 
and  returning  from  thence  immediately  to  his  Father.  But  had 
he  done  so,  our  bodies  would  have  been  left  in  the  grave,  and 
you  know  how  much  more  we  are  wont  to  fear  the  grave,  than 
even  death  itself.  There,  where  corruption  reigns,  it  seems 
as  if  the  curse  of  sin  still  hung  over  us,  and  as  if  no  redemp- 
tion had  been  accomplished.  In  order  to  dispel  this  terror, 
and  to  convince  us,  by  means  of  his  own  precedent,  that 
even  with  the  interment  of  our  bodies  in  the  gloomy  cell,  there 
is  no  longer  any  thing  to  fear,  but  that  a  passage  into  life  is 
opened  for  us  out  of  this  dark  dungeon,  he  paternally  took  into 
consideration  all  our  necessities,  and  suffered  himself  to  be  laid 
in  the  grave  before  our  eyes.  He  did  not  indeed  see  corruption, 
because  he  was  only  imputatively  and  not  substantially  a  sinner. 
"  Thou  wilt  not  suffer  thine  Holy  One  to  see  corruption,"  said 
David  in  Psalm  xvi.  10,  impelled  by  the  spirit  of  prophecy. 
Our  flesh,  on  the  contrary,  which  is  poisoned  by  sin,  must 
necessarily  pass  through  the  process  of  the  germinating  seed- 
corn,  and  be  dissolved  into  its  original  element  before  its  glori- 
fication. But  the  difference  between  our  lot  and  that  of  oui 
Divine  Head  is  not  an  essential  one.  The  chief  thing  continues 
to  be  this,  that  we  know  thatt  even  our  bodies  are  not  lost  in  the 
grave,  but  that  they  rest  there  in  hope.  This  is  confirmed  and 
guarantied  to  us  by  Christ.  The  way  we  have  see  him  go,  we 
shall  also  take.  That  which  his  obedience  merited  for  him  as 
the  Son  of  Man,  it  merited  and  acquired  for  us,  because  Christ 
yielded  it  in  our  stead. 

If,  therefore,  the  second  Adam's  rest  in  the  grave  was  only  a 


TIIE   INTERMENT.  471 

peaceful  sabbatic  repose,  ours  can  not  be  any  thing  more.  If,  on 
the  third  day,  he  was  called  forth  from  the  prison,  in  which  the 
king,  of  terrors  had  confined  him,  and  was  crowned  with  glory 
and  honor ;  the  same  thing,  in  due  time,  awaits  our  bodies,  if 
we  have  entered  into  union  with  him  by  faith  and  love.  If, 
henceforth,  we  say  that  Christ  by  his  burial  has  consecrated 
and  shed  light  upon  the  darkness  of  our  graves,  we  grve 
utterance  to  something  incomparably  more  than  a  mere  poetic 
mode  of  speaking.  When  we  look  down  into  our  sepulchers,  as 
into  a  silent,  solemn  resting-place,  we  do  not  dream,  but  see  that 
which  is  real  and  true.  The  Apostle  Paul  in  writing  to  the 
Corintlnans,  1  Cor.  xv.  13,  feels  so  assured  that  our  bodies  will  be 
raised  again,  as  to  affirm,  that  if  this  were  not  the  case,  Christ 
himself  would  not  have  risen.  Who  therefore  will  deny  that 
grave-yards  may  not  justly  be  termed,  "Resurrection-fields!" 
Yes!  those  who  are  bought  with  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  rest 
even  in  their  graves  under  the  Almighty's  wing,  and  over  their 
moldering  remains,  a  divinely  sealed  hope  casts  a  radiant  and 
transfiguring  light. 

The  Prince  of  Peace  reposes  in  his  sepulcher.  A  venerable 
man  approaches  it  in  silent  devotion,  it  is  Paul  of  Tarsus,  and 
writes  upon  the  tombstone  a  mighty  inscription.  You  may  read 
it  in  Rom.  vi.,  where  it  is '  testified,  that  we  are  not  only  dead 
with  him  but  buried  with  him.  But  even  as  we  are  planted 
together  in  the  likeness  of  his  death,  so  shall  we  be  also  in  the 
likeness  of  his  resurrection.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  in- 
scription? It  asserts  nothing  less  than  this,  that  Christ  has 
endured  the  curse  of  sin  on  the  cross  for  us.  "  There  is  there- 
fore now  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who 
walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit."  But  even  though 
regenerate,  we  still  bear  the  remains  of  the  old  sinful  nature  in 
and  upon  us.  This  is  our  grief  and  cross,  and  impels  us  to 
utter  the  anxious  inquiry,  "0  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who 
shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death!"  May  God 
enable  us  to  say,  with  him  who  uttered  it,  "I  thank  God, 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ!" 

The  f rst  night  which  succeeded  the  great  and  momentous  day, 
is  past.     The  body  of  the  deceased  Redeemer  slumbers  solitarily 


472  THE   MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

in  the  prison  of  the  tomb.  The  morning  at  length  dawns,  and 
movements  are  heard  about  the  sepulcher.  They  are  no  longer 
the  beloved  forms  of  his  friends  that  we  see  hasting  so  early 
through  the  garden.  The  latter,  accustomed  to  obey  every 
commandment,  remain  quietly  in  their  habitations  during  the 
great  Sabbath.  It  is  enemies  whom  we  see  so  active  and 
busy  at  the  first  dawning  of  the  morning.  The  previous 
evening,  an  anxious  solicitude  had  seized  their  hearts.  Their 
excited  evil  consciences  saw  visions.  The  remembrance  of  so 
many  sayings  of  the  Nazarene  occurred  to  them,  in  which  he 
had  most  clearly  announced  a  resurrection,  by  which  his 
heavenly  Father,  after  his  crucifixion,  would  glorify  him  before 
the  whole  world.  The  hypocrites  pretended,  indeed,  that  they 
were  far  from  supposing  that  such  fanatical  fancies  of  One  who 
had  now  been  so  completely  put  to  shame,  would  ever  be 
realized;  but  they  think  otherwise  in  their  hearts.  Even  in 
death  the  crucified  Jesus  asserts  his  regal  influence  on  their 
minds,  and  in  his  grave  terrifies  them  by  his  majesty.  Care- 
less about  the  Sabbath  or  the  passover  festival,  the  high  priests 
and  Pharisees  go,  in  solemn  procession,  to  the  governor's  palace, 
in  order  to  induce  him  to  take  measures  for  securing  the  grave 
of  the  crucified  Jesus.  They  are  admitted  into  the  presence  of 
Pilate,  who  is  not  a  little  surprised  at  such  an  early  visit  from 
the  notables  of  Israel. 

"  Sir,"  say  they,  "  we  remember  that  that  deceiver  (shame 
upon  them  to  speak  in  such  a  manner  of  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel,  contrary  to  their  better  light  and  knowledge)  said, 
while  he  was  yet  alive,  After  three  days,  I  will  rise  again. 
(Thus  they  confirm  it,  that  he  had  really  asserted  this.) 
Command  therefore  that  the  sepulcher  be  watched  until  the 
third  day,  lest  his  disciples  come  by  night  and  steal  him  away, 
and  say  unto  the  people,  he  is  risen  from  the  dead,  so  the  last 
error  shall  be  worse  than  the  first." 

Observe  how  cunningly  these  wicked  men  try  to  conceal  their 
real  thoughts  and  feelings.  One  would  suppose  that  they  were 
only  afraid  of  a  possible  deception.  But  if  they  were  merely 
anxious  to  repel  the  poor  disciples,  would  any  such  measures  as 
they  demanded  have  been  requisite?    "Would  not  a  handful  of 


THE   INTERMENT.  473 

minions,  such  as  were  always  at  the  beck  of  the  Pharisees, 
have  sufficed  to  protect  the  tomb  against  those  defenseless  men  ? 
But  the  mighty  acts  which  they  had  seen  the  murdered  man 
perform,  cause  them  to  think  every  thing  possible;  and  the 
terrific  events,  which  had  accompanied  his  death,  were  not 
calculated  to  dispel  or  alleviate  their  anxiety.  They  scent  the 
air  of  Easter  morning,  and  are,  in  fact,  afraid  of  a  resurrection 
of  the  buried  corpse.  But  if  the  latter  were  to  ensue,  of  what 
avail  would  be  a  guard,  or  the  lime  and  plaster  with  which  they 
intended  to  fix  the  stone?  So  we  might  well  inquire,  and 
doubt  whether  any  serious  apprehensions  of  Jesus's  restoration 
to  life  could  have  actuated  his  enemies.  But  fear  is  foolish,  and 
sin  is  blind,  and  gropes  in  the  dark,  however  wise  it  may  think 
itself.  Pilate,  who  probably  felt  very  peculiar  emotion  thrill 
through  him,  while  listening  to  what  the  rulers  of  Israel  had  to 
say,  very  willingly  granted  their  request,  and,  pointing  to  a 
band  of  armed  soldiers,  which  he  saw  parading  before  the 
palace,  says,  "  Ye  have  there  a  watch,  go  your  way,  make  it  as 
sure  as  you  can." 

Not  a  little  pleased  at  having  attained  their  object,  the 
deputation,  together  with  the  Boman  guard,  repair  to  Joseph's 
garden.  After  having  convinced  themselves  by  inspection 
that  the  body  still  lay  in  its  place,  the  heavy  stone,  which 
they  had  rolled  away  from  the  mouth  of  the  sepulcher 
is  replaced,  and  the  work  of  fixing  and  sealing  commences. 
This  is  a  remarkable  scene — a  singular  campaign.  Such 
preparations  are  made,  as  if  nothing  less  were  intended  than 
to  expel  a  hostile  force  from  Joseph's  garden.  It  is  related 
of  a  G-erman  emperor  of  a  former  age,  that,  borne  about 
in  his  open  war-chariot  completely  armed,  he  put  a  whole 
hostile  army  to  the  rout,  even  when  dying.  In  the  quiet  garden 
there  is  even  more  than  this.  It  is  true  that,  in  the  present 
instance,  the  adversaries  act  as  if  they  were  the  victors,  but 
inwardly  they  are  the  vanquished.  The  slumbering  Hero  of 
Judah  took  from  them  the  armor  of  careless  confidence,  and 
filled  their  souls  with  a  cloud  of  terrific  and  oppressive  forebod- 
ings. What  do  they  mean  by  their  extensive  preparations? 
They  are  fighting  for  the  cause  of  death  against  life ;  and  would 


474  THE   MOST   HOLT   PLACE. 

gladly  establish  and  maintain  the  throne  of  the  former,  and  keep 
down  and  immure  the  latter.  Let  them  do  their  utmost.  An 
all-overruling  God  controls  their  designs,  and  permits  them  to 
assist  death,  by  still  more  strongly  forging  his  fetters,  in  order 
that  the  bursting  of  them  may  appear  so  much  the  more  glorious. 
And  thus  they  are  suffered  to  deprive  life  of  all  scope,  and  to 
wall  up  every  outlet,  that  when  it  bursts  through  every  barrier, 
it  may  the  more  evidently  prove  itself  to  be  divine. 

We  depart  from  the  sepulcher  of  our  Lord — not  in  grief  and 
sorrow,  but  full  of  joyful  expectation  of  what  is  shortly  to  take 
place.  We  already  behold  in  spirit,  the  first  glimmer  of  the 
dawning  resurrection-morn  upon  the  rocky  tomb.  Only  twen- 
ty-four hours  more  till  the  trumpet  of  God  shall  sound,  and 
Joseph's  garden  present  a  different  spectacle.  Then  every  seal 
will  be  broken,  not  from  the  Redeemer's  tomb  only,  but  also, 
from  the  mystery  of  the  whole  of  his  passion.  An  "  Amen !" 
from  on  high,  the  most  glorious  and  stupendous  that  ever 
resounded  under  heaven,  will  then  announce  to  the  world  that 
reconciliation  has  been  made,  and  that  the  Prince  of  Life, 
crowned  with  glory  and  honor,  as  the  conqueror  of  all  the  ter- 
rific powers  which  were  opposed  to  us,  offers  the  first  Easter 
salutation  of  peace  to  the  favored  race  of  man,  from  the  ruins  of 
his  shattered  tomb.  Let  us  then  tune  our  harps,  and  hold  our 
festive  garlands  in  readiness,  while  awaiting  the  mighty  moment 
that  shall  put  an  eternal  end  to  all  the  sadness  and  anxiety  of 
the  human  heart. 


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from  their  writings,  connected  by  a  Biographical,  Historical,  and  Critical  Narrative:  thus  presenting 
a  complete  view  of  English  literature  from  the  earliest  to  the  present  time.  Let  the  reader  open 
where  he  will,  he  cannot  fail  to  find  matter  for  profit  and  delight.  The  selections  are  pt  ins  — 
infinite  riches  in  a  little  room  ;  in  the  language  of  another,  "  A  whole  English  Libbaby  fused 
down  into  one  cheap  book  I" 

CHAMBERS'S  MISCELLANY  OF  USEFUL  AND  ENTERTAINING  KNOWLEDGE.' 
By  "William  Chambers.    "With  Illustrations.    Ten  vols.,  16mo,  cloth,  $7.00. 

CHAMBERS'S  HOME  BOOK  AND  POCKET  MISCELLANY. 

A  choice  Selection  of  Interesting  and  Instructive  Reading  for  the  Old  and  the  Young. 
Six  vols.    16mo,  cloth,  $3.00. 

This  work  is  fully  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  either  of  the  Chambers's  other  works  in  interest, 
eontaining  a  vast  fund  of  valuable  information,  furnishing  ample  variety  for  every  class  of  readers. 

CHAMBERS'S  REPOSITORY  OF  INSTRUCTIVE  AND  AMUSING  PAPERS. 
With  Illustrations.  16mo,  cloth,  bound.  4  vols,  in  two,  $1.75;  and  4  vols,  in  one,  $1.50. 


IMPORTANT  WORKS. 

ANALYTICAL  CONCORDANCE  OF  THE  HOLY  SCRIPTURES ; 
or,  The  Bible  presented  under  Distinct  and  Classified  Heads  or  Tcpics.  By  Joiix 
Eadie,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  Author  of  "Biblical  Cyclopaedia,"  "Dictionary  of  the 
Bible,"  &c,  &c.  One  volume,  royal  octavo,  833  pp.  Cloth,  S3.00;  sheep,  §3.55. 
Just  published. 

The  publishers  would  call  the  special  attention  of  clergymen  and  others  to  some  of  the  peculiar 
features  of  this  great  work. 

1.  It  is  a  concordance  of  subjects,  not  of  words.  In  this  it  differs  from  the  common  concordance, 
Which,  of  course,  it  does  not  supersede.    Both  are  necessary  to  the  Biblical  student. 

2.  It  embraces  all  the  topics,  both  secular  and  religious,  which  are  naturally  suggested  by  the  entire 
contents  of  the  Bible.  In  this  it  differs  from  Scripture  Manuals  and  Topical  Text-books,  which  are 
confined  to  religious  or  doctrinal  topics. 

3.  It  contains  the  whole  of  the  Bible  without  abridgment,  differing  in  no  respect  from  the  Bible  in 
common  use,  except  in  the  classification  of  its  contents. 

4.  It  contains  a  synopsis,  separate  from  the  concordance,  presenting  within  the  compass  of  a  few 
pages  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  whole  contents. 

5.  It  contains  a  table  of  contents,  embracing  nearly  two  thousand  heads,  arranged  in  alphabetical 
order. 

6.  It  is  much  superior  to  the  only  other  work  in  the  language  prepared  on  the  same  general  plan, 
«rad  is  offered  to  the  public  at  much  less  cost. 

The  purchaser  gets  not  only  a  Concordance,  but  also  a  Bible,  in  this  volume.  The  superior  con- 
venience arising  out  of  this  fact,  —  saving,  as  it  does,  the  necessity  of  having  two  bookj  at  hand  and 
of  making  two  references,  instead  of  one,  —  will  be  readily  apparent. 

The  general  subjects  (under  each  of  vrhich  there  are  a  vast  number  of  sub-divisions)  are  arranged 

I  follows,  viz.  : 

Ministers  of  Religion,    Sacrifice, 
Miracles,  Scriptures, 

Occupations,  Speech, 

Ordinances,  Spirits, 

Parables  and  Emblems,  Tabernacle  and  Temple, 
Persecution,  Vineyard  and  Orchard, 

Praise  and  Prayer,  Visions  and  Dreams, 

Prophecy,  War, 

Providence,  "Water. 

Redemption, 

i  Sabbaths  and  Holy  Days, 
That  such  a  work  as  this  is  of  exceeding  great  convenience  is  matter  of  obvious  remark.  But  it 
fs  much  more  than  that ;  it  is  also  an  instructive  work.  It  is  adapted  not  only  to  assist  the  student 
in  prosecuting  the  investigation  of  preconceived  ideas,  but  also  to  impart  ideas  which  the  most  care- 
ful reading  of  the  Bible  in  its  ordinary  arrangement  might  not  suggest  Let  him  take  up  any  one  of 
the  subjects  —  "  Agriculture,"  for  example  — and  see  if  such  be  not  the  case.  This  feature  places 
the  work  in  a  higher  grade  than  that  of  the  common  Concordance.  It  shows  it  to  be,  so  to  speak,  a 
work  otonore  mind. 

No  Biblical  student  would  willingly  dispense  with  this  Concordance  when  once  possessed.  It  is 
adapted  to  the  necessities  of  all  classes,  —  clergymen  and  theological  students;  Sabbath-school 
superintendents  and  teachers;  authors  engaged  in  tho  composition  of  religious  and  even  secular 
works;  and,  in  fine,  common  readers  of  the  Bible,  intent  only  on  their  own  improvement. 

A  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  ORIGINAL  TEXT  OF  THE  ACTS 
OF  THE  APOSTLES.  By  Horatio  B.  Hackett.  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Biblical  Liter- 
ature and  Interpretation,  in  the  Newton  Theological  Institution.  [£7*A  new, 
revised,  and  enlarged  edition.     Octavo,  cloth.    In  Press. 

*y  This  most  important  and  very  popular  work,  has  been  throughly  revised  (some  parts  being 
entirely  rewritten),  and  considerably  enlarged  by  the  introduction  of  important  new  matter,  the 
result  of  the  Author's  continued,  laborious  investigations  since  the  publication  of  the  first  edition, 
tided  by  the  more  recent  published  criticisms  on  this  portion  of  the  Divine  Word,  by  othev  distin- 
guished Biblical  Scholars,  in  this  country  and  in  Europe.  (Y) 


Agriculture, 

Genealogy, 

Animals, 

God, 

Architecture, 

Ileavcn, 

Army,  Arms, 

Idolatry,  Idols, 

Body, 

Jesus  Christ, 

Canaan, 

Jews, 

Covenant, 

Laws, 

Diet  and  Dress, 

Magistrates, 

Disease  and  Death, 

Man, 

Earth, 

Marriage, 

Family, 

Metals  and  Mi 

GOULD   AND  LINGOLN, 

59  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON, 

Would  call  particular  attention  to  the  following  valuable  worKS  described 
in  their  Catalogue  of  Publications,  viz. : 

Hugh.    Miller's    Works. 

Bayne'S  Works.       Walker's  Works.       Miall's  Works.       Bungener's   Wosk. 

Annual  of  Scientific  Discovery.      Knight's  Knowledge  is  Power. 

Krummacher's  Suffering  Saviour, 

Banvard's  American  Histories.      The  Aimwell   Stories. 

KeweOmb'a  Works.     Tweedie's  Works.     Chambers's  Works.     Harris' Works. 

Kitto's  Cyclopedia  of  Biblical  Literature. 

iSrs.  Knight's  Life  of  Montgomery.        Kitto's  History  of  Palestin 

Wheewell's  Work.     Wayland's  Works.     Agassiz's  Works. 


jTfl[eBtimony  ofKoct      ^< 
\  Ann.  of  Scient.  DlL^SW  HuSn  MU,M. 
\ Earth  and  Man  ^V-'%  DaTid  A-  «*. 
k  Principles  of  Z',  %  Arnold  GnJot. 

1  MoUusca  and  %£>  Vi^"  ***««. 
^Thesaur.  of  £Dg.  WordA\   Peter  Mark  j,0"": 
'\  Knowledge  is  Power,     '^ 
\  Cyclop,  of  Eng.  Literat 
Xv  Cjclop.  of  Bible  Lit.. 
,\\Y  Concord,  of  the  Bible. 
;'VA.   Analyt.  Cone,  of  Bible 
\\\\  Moral  Science, 


,.,  •  "Jart  Roget 

™b«t  Chamber*. 
Kitto.  _  Cruden. 

■   Francis  WajIanJ. 
John  Harris. 
Peter  Bajne. 


*.r.-s/vsr*is£. 


William's  Works.     G-uyot's  Works. 

Ohompson's  Better  Land.     Kimball's  Heaven.    Valuable  Works  on  Mission*. 

Haven's  Mental  Philosophy.     Buchanan's  Modern  Atheism.  ^ 

Cruden's  Condensed  Concordance.     Eadie's  Analytical  Concordance. 

The  Psalmist :   a  Collection    of  Hymns. 

Valuable  School  Books.     Works  for  Sabbath  Schools. 

Memoir  of  Amos  Lawrence. 

Poetical  Works  of  Milton,  Cowper,  Scott.       Elegant  Miniature  Volumes. 

Arvine's  Cyclopedia  of  Anecdotes. 

Bipley's  Notes  on  Gospels,  Acts,  and  Romans. 

Sprague's  European  Celebrities.     Marsh's  Camel  and  the  Hallig. 

Boget's  Thesaurus  of  English  Words. 

Haekett's  Notes  on  Acts.      M'Whorter's  Yahveh  Christ. 

Siebold  and  Stannius's  Comparative  Anatomy.    Marco's  G-eologieal  Map,  "IT.  S. 

Beligious   and  Miscellaneous  Works. 

Works  in  the  various  Departments  e>r  Literature,  Science  and  Art. 


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BERKELEY 


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